Warning: The Pool is Contaminated
by Alba Aulbath
Summary: The Question, after tracking down loose ends, finds out the fate of Blue Beetle. Suffice to say, he's not very pleased.
1. Beginning With Gods and Fools

**Disclaimers and Useless/Useful Stuff to Know:**  
Don't own any of these characters. Never will. Wish I did. Major spoilers for "Countdown to Infinite Crisis". I suggest you read that first. I'm not sure if there's another issue out after that one yet, as I haven't actually checked in awhile, but eh. This story takes place after that.**

* * *

Warning: The Pool is Contaminated**

by Alba Aulbath

* * *

It was clear blue skies and the sun was beaming down onto each individual of the blue planet that was being vigorously protected by a variety of men, mutants, aliens, and several who would even be considered Gods. Brightly and cheerfully, the sky greeted its people. 

Not all greeted back.

No matter the light, there would be shadows. And when in the shade, you had to know how to live without the light; there didn't need to be light in the world, but there was. There had to be shade, though. Without shade, you'd die in the light. Without light, one would just be in the shade. Lost, cold, and frightened, but you'd be alive.

Everything might be a necessity, but there would always be shadows. Every city, no matter how doey-eyed - much like the bright and painfully cheery Metropolis - had those shadows.

Obscured by the gloom of buildings and a worn out trenchcoat, he played along with the darkness while he walked. He could see beyond both light and shadow. He could see between the lines and outside the lines and the lines themselves.

He could **See**.

Gifted with stealth, gifted with **Sight**, gifted with a mind not quite right but enough to **See**, he was well on his way to a brightly lit room that could blind a man as well as the sun could have. Perhaps Michael J. Carter would be asleep during the visit, perhaps not.

Regardless.

Without a nurse's notice or curiosity, he stepped inside the hospital room, not quite looming or meaning to intimidate. He was not a Dark Knight, but someone questionable.

The patient in bandages and exhaustion glanced up to find himself not staring into eyes at all; a faceless face. Disturbed, he was only capable of sputtering out, "Who the hell are you...!"

"Good question," was a typical line this no-faced man played up, and did not spare Michael from. He continued, disconnected from the poor bandaged man's question. "Booster Gold. Michael Carter." That might have been the trenchcoated man's greeting. Or a prologue. "He wonders if the nurses have said what he asked."

"He... what...?" Confusion easily nudged its way into Michael's voice, clueless as to what this man could be talking about.

The no-face tilted his head. "Have they spoken his words? Have they said what he's asked, before you last saw him?"

Booster, as he had preferred to think of himself as, peered at him. "You mean... Ted? Where the fuck is he?"

"Trying to find that out. Have they spoken his words?"

"I don't know squat; just know he left when I passed out."

The man with no face nodded. "Don't blame yourself. Don't grieve. You were his friend - he cared greatly about you. ...And he's sorry." Suddenly, the faceless man looked to the side, away from Booster Gold, completely distracted by something.

"Sorry...? Who the hell are you, and where's Ted!"

"The JLA." There was no answer for any of Booster's questions. "I need a way to contact them."

Booster frowned at him. "Why?"

"Need to know what Beetle was doing. Need to know what they know - or refuse to know." The faceless man tilted his head, then turned it back to Booster, so that there was a face staring at him with no eyes and unnerving him. "Need a communicator, Michael. Need to find Ted. Clear this up."

"How do you know 'im?"

The no-faced man shrugged. "Early days. Eight years ago, maybe. Doesn't matter." He turned his head to the side once again, then looked back to Booster. "He was on a lead - no one listened. Didn't want to, maybe. They can believe a man who went insane, killed the Guardians, killed the Green Lanterns, became redemption, and returned to life. But they can't believe an inventor on the brink of losing everything and somehow keeping his sanity."

Booster might have been inclined to defend Hal Jordan. He might have been inclined to tell this crazy son of a bitch that there was no way he could help or want to help.

Might have been inclined to also say 'fuck everyone else'.

"I still have some numbers you can use."

The man without a face nodded.

* * *

One would always expect the Watchtower to be busy, mostly by one mind and one set of hands. Martian Manhunter hardly would budge away from the main console, unless he was required out on the field. 

As it was, he'd been doing what he could for both the universe, the world, and individual cities who cried for help.

To receive a call at the moment wasn't particularly excusable. Seeing the caller ID, one might say that the Martian could be slightly irritated, but he was particularly good at guarding his expressions.

Pressing a button to reply the call, J'onn began with, "Booster, I cannot spare a moment for you or-"

"The deaf and the damned have not listened. The fool is a card with little respect, and we've been foolish instead to disregard it. Be damned, for our lack of ears for the fool."

That was certainly not Booster. He narrowed his eyes. "Who is this?"

"Someone with ears. A fool."

It was not so difficult, reaching out mentally for contact. Thoughts, irregular; this man might have been mentally ill, or terribly intelligent. It was not a mystery J'onn was intended to find out; this voice's identity was.

"You call yourself the Question." Civillian name had no meaning for this individual using Booster Gold's communications.

There may have been a nod; J'onn could only sense for it. "Looking for the answer. Ha ha." A pause. It might have been a joke. "Ted Kord. He last spoke to you when?"

"Two days ago. Is there a point to this call, or might you also be a prankster?"

"There are no pranksters on this side. Just a fool, and disappeared fool. Fools for speaking. Fools for listening."

J'onn didn't have time or patience for this kind of talk. "And what might I be?"

"There are classical terms. Moron. Idiot. Dolt. Imbecile. I prefer deaf. Deaf and dumb. Gods who have fire in their eyes, who can breathe ice, who can read our minds, look through our faces. Gods who are deaf and dumb."

"What do you want?"

"To speak for who can't speak. To be heard for who couldn't be heard. Look for what the Amazon believed in. Look for what Ted Kord began. Or the deaf and dumb Gods will be Gods no more."

Abruptly, the Question ended the call. J'onn was capable of a continual mental contact, with a bit of strain; while the man had been speaking with puzzles, it was no prank. It wasn't some meaningless little trick that was being played, which was why he considered.

Perhaps he should speak to Diana.

* * *

It was the start of things, and he knew he could not do much more. He began what he could, and he hoped that it could only be finished. Which was what brought him to a dark city; not dark enough to impress either Gotham or Hub. It was enough to make Keystone and Central look spotless, in spite of it. 

The man with no face followed directions from whispers in his ear; there were words spoken in a slight conversation in which he took part in, and perhaps the questionable man smiled at the jokes that had to be told in desperation.

_They always said I'd lose my mind being friends with Michael_ was told in a trembling manner.

The Question felt a pulse in his ears; it was familiar. It wasn't his own.

Slipping past security - all electronics - and making his way up a building, it had been no trouble for him to find his way to his goal. The faceless man took a seat before a computer that was certainly not owned by him.

"Show me," the no-faced man murmured.

There was a beat of silence and then a whisper, in which he continued to work afterwards. Through directions, Question keyed in a series of commands into the computer. Technology had never been much his style, but it was a requirement.

Knowledge, far beyond than he suspected, was loaded to reveal itself onto the screen. A broad database, saved away on files that had been carefully sealed by a series of encryptions and passwords. It was peculiar data. Not simply on the League, or a Society, or a family.

Every vigilante.

"You have a lot of nerve," a voice grated behind the faceless man.

The Question did not look away from the screen. His mouth - an unusual senstation - had gone dry as he continued his search. Never, in such a long time, had he felt such quaking nervousness, and it wasn't due to the fact that he had invaded a home.

"How did you get in here?" was demanded.

"Let myself in," the with man with no apparent mouth, nose, or eyes finally acknowledged the speaker behind him. "Don't have a computer myself. Borrowing. Thought of using Batman's first, but figured he'd have it rigged. You? Didn't think you would have bothered as much, Nightwing." He peered at the screen, clicking a file. "Should I call you Mr. Grayson instead?"

"Off the computer. Now." Something sharp was at the back of his neck.

The Question was not disturbed. "Can't. Busy. Need to find someone... Ah." He leaned in close to look at the screen. Finally, his goal.

"What do you want?"

"Informaton." Question hesitated; he was reading the file, and it almost chilled him. Then, he murmured, "Ted... Why were you gifted with ears? Shouldn't have been your fate..."

"What?"

The faceless man stood up slowly, turning around to leer his apparent lack of eyes at the dark-clothed vigilante of Bludhaven.

Nightwing almost took a step back, finally recognizing the invader. "The Question."

"Bruce keeps track of me, then."

"What do you want?"

Question tilted his head to the side. "To listen. To find. Won't blame you for not having heard. No one would have told you."

"Heard what?"

"Blue Beetle. His search. Contacted Batman sometime ago. Not a prank; he found something. Something big."

Nightwing peered at him. "What is it?"

Question answered in a wry tone, "Ask Batman. Tell him Ted's gone. I'm looking for Beetle."

Turning, the faceless man started out.

"Wait. What do you know about Beetle?"

"Not enough. Not enough. But I'm listening, and that's enough," Question murmured. "I'm not deaf. No face, but ears. I'll listen."

That was puzzling, even for Nightwing, which led to his silence. Quiet dismissal for the trenchcoated vigilante.

The Question stepped out and was gone.

* * *

He was closer, he could tell. The voices were clearer now. 

_Don't blame them_ was desperately requested. _Don't, it's not their fault._

It wasn't blame. It wasn't anger. Befuddling, yes. Some frustration; the Question couldn't comprehend the lack of ears that the Justice League- the **Gods** could give to Blue Beetle. It was blatant ignorance. The only one who listened had been Booster Gold, and he was in the hospital.

It was unforgivable; mortal men were capable of much more, in many ways, than the Gods with enhanced vision and body-shifting powers. The men who had to find different ways of being considered "super" were capable of finding this.

They were also capable of death.

Outside of a complex - abandoned now, no one guarded it, no one there - the Question approached the gates. He climbed over the fence, leaping down to the dirt and making his way inside. It was giant, wide, a labyrinth.

Fortunately, the Question had a way to guide himself.

"Where are you?" the trenchcoated man wondered softly.

_He_ pointed.

Following the direction, the Question continued his way down the dark hallways, dimly lit by the fading sun outside.

It was upon an abandoned room with a broad and dead computer screen he came upon the body.

Kneeling down, he took the blue-suited and stained body lightly into his arms, as though it was completely fragile. Rigor mortis was no longer in effect; it'd been a day or so since the death of this man.

"Simply abandoned. Left behind. Will you linger here?" the Question wondered. Gently, he pushed away the goggles to pull down the eyelids of the dead eyes. "Will you cling to your fate?"

_He_ whispered.

"Should the Gods pay for their lack of ears?"

_He_ shook his head.

The Question resigned. "Then they'll acknowledge your fate. Keep talking. I will listen, Ted."

The screen blinked to life, fizzling with snow but a voice was clear.

"You're not someone I expected," the voice smirked, confident. "Checkmate."

The Question lifted his head, acknowledging with unabashed loathing. "Max."

Bewilderment replaced the ego. "Have we... met?"

"No. Ted told me." The faceless man turned his head in a direction, as if it was apparent as to what he meant.

"In spite of your mental condition..." It was always presumptuious that the faceless man was insane - it might have been true, but it hadn't mattered right at the moment. "...you've found your way here. Bravo. What will you do now, I wonder? What's your next move?"

The Question turned his head back to the screen. "Listen. And tell. The Gods will listen at last."

"Will they?" Laughter. "Will they listen? To a mad man about a dead man?"

"Then they will demote from a God to a fool. And the fool will be their God."

"And you? And what would you be?"

"Eternally a question." Hub City's vigilante turned and walked out of the compound, body limply carried in his arms with care.

The no-faced man knew now he was a target to these people, but that didn't matter.

"I'm your ears, I'm your messager. Speak to me."

The Question listened to the whispers of Ted Kord.

* * *

**End Notes:**

Again, I haven't read anything beyond Countdown yet. Lack of time, lack of money. I figured I'd thrown in the Question, considering the inspiration I received after reading his recent and incredible mini-series, I considered what might have been his possible reaction to finding out the fate of the first superhero he ever teamed up with: Blue Beetle.

What I like writing about him is that you're never quite sure if he's just some insane man running around with a faceless mask, or if he's really actually seeing into 'chi', which is the result of almost all of the mini-series. Half viewed in normal eyes, half viewed into chi. Because of chi, the Question can see some lingering death, and on occasion, they can talk to him. I don't know the extent of it, but I thought I'd have fun incorporating it here in his relation to the unfortunate late Ted Kord. There's some insanity here, some spirituality here, and hopefully some closure here.

At least, I feel satisfied.

Whether or not there'll be a continuation, I've hardly decided. I feel fine leaving it like this... but then, I'm never quite sure what else I'd like to explore in the Question and the lingering chi/soul of Ted Kord.

Cheers.


	2. Tabloids and Obituaries

**Disclaimers and Useless/Useful Stuff to Know:**  
Don't own any of these characters. Never will. Wish I did. Major spoilers for "Countdown to Infinite Crisis". Good idea to read the comic first. Also, spoilers for the Question six-issue miniseries.**

* * *

Warning: The Pool is Contaminated**

by Alba Aulbath

* * *

A day had gone by, just one day and it completely made the difference in his life. He could **See** that they were organizing, preparing to go after the man with no face. They were ready to play the game.

To make a Checkmate.

For the moment, he had fled his way into Metropolis. It was the closest city. Questionably the safest, considering his last visit hadn't particularly impressed Superman. Regardless, he knew that he had Metropolis on his side. Seeing Ted was easier this way.

One day was all it took.

_Don't you feel a little bit disturbed dragging me around?_

The Question probably lifted an eyebrow. It wasn't as if anyone would have been able to tell.

_Never mind. You've probably done grosser things._

"Hn."

He snuck his way into an abandoned home. The plumbing, he presumed, still worked. Which was all fine with him; keeping in mind of the tricks to keep the Man of Steel from suddenly crashing through the roof to demand what he was doing here - much more, what he was doing here with the Blue Beetle's body - he delicately carried the blue-suited body into the bathroom. Laying him down into the bathtub, the Question looked for a washcloth. He found one - raggedy, old, but it'd do - and dampened it.

Kneeling down by the body, he gingerly peeled away the mask and went about cleaning him to perfection. Sew up the head on top, try to make him whole again. Try to make it look less dark, for the dewy-eyed metahumans, humans, and aliens prancing around in spandex.

_Excuse me, I was 'prancing' around in tights, too._

Question muttered his apologies, dabbing away at the unresponsive face, cleaning what he could. Maybe fix the mask, later, while he was at it.

Hesitantly, _he_ attempted to convince the faceless man _You don't have to do that, y'know. Not your responsibility, Question_.

"And have the lesser turn their attentions to you? Have who else deal with it, Ted? Michael? Barbara? Not going to pass you off to the JLA. Not going to chance it. Not going to chance Max jumping in."

_Someone's gotta know sometime._

"Aware of that. Going to try. Reason why we're in Metropolis." Question almost sounded smug. "Need to... fix you first..."

_L-look... get a damned professional or something..._ was pleaded.

"I can do it," Question muttered.

The gore wasn't the problem. Not the blood, not rebuilding what had been the top of Ted's skull. It hadn't been any of that. It'd just been Ted. It was him who was lying in the bathtub, absolutely lifeless. Completely and utterly unlike Ted, but it was reality.

Typically, dealing with reality hadn't been too difficult for the Question; everyday, he dealt with the lowest scum of the streets, the very worst the world offered him. The shade, the shadows, the dark - that was his world.

And this was reality.

Regardless, it was unnerving.

After he felt as though he was as clean as he was going to get, the faceless man stepped away and dug into his pockets. Some sheets of psuedoderm might give the impression of skin, at least, and make the body look a little more... acceptable. Question was hardly a surgeon, and was incapable of reconstructing the skull itself, but he could make the gore look less intimidating.

Cutting a proper length, he approached the body, pressing the pseudoderm over the top of the lifeloss body's head. Pressing against his belt buckle, familiar colored bonding gas escaped, just enough to bond the skin against the skull for the moment.

_You make me look bald now._

"A price to pay. Want Michael to see the truth so soon?"

_He_ winced. It was a no.

The Question searched the abandoned dump in attempts for needle and thread - or at least, what could substitute. Eventually, he did find a needle, but instead could only find a dark blue shirt in a room. It'd do; returning to the bathroom, he began to undo the thread in the shirt.

_You don't have to do that._

"Want to." Question felt better sewing the mask up on the top.

_What're you going to do? Those guys... they won't leave you alone now..._

"Run. Survive. Need to make the world listen, Ted. Don't care what it takes. Not your fault. Wanted to be involved. Need to be involved." He bit off the thread before he began sewing. "Need to make the world know. Start here."

_How?_

"We're in Metropolis, with a few famous reporters. We'll start there..."

* * *

It always seemed that Superman was always on the run to save a village, a valley, a country, a continent, the world, and then some from an evil peril. It wasn't just Metropolis he needed to rescue, but the entire freaking universe. Occasionally, it could grind a girl's nerves. 

Lois Lane dealt with it, though.

She had left the Daily Planet and arrived home for only about fifteen minutes until her cell phone went off.

With an annoyed sigh - she had planned to relax for at least an hour for crying out loud - Lois went through her purse and finally yanked out her cell before receiving the call. "Hello?"

"Lois, it's Vic. Vic Sage."

A quick scowl was on her face. "You have a lot of nerve calling me now, after you left me in the dust the last time you swung by Metropolis."

"I did leave you a key, Lois. And it allowed you to deal a blow to Luthor. For that, I think you actually owe me."

Lois hesitated. That might have been true, but it wasn't something she was going to ever admit to him.

"Make it quick. I've got a schedule to keep, you know." Not that Lois was busy. Not that Vic knew any better.

"I have an exclusive story I need you to put out there, Lois. I found something big. I think you should get dibs."

That was definitely curious. "And since when does Vic Sage not report something he finds?" she asked wryly.

"Since when I know it deserves your attention and the Man of Steel's. I discovered the passing of one of his companions. I'm going to e-mail you the essential information. You don't have to give me credit; I just want you to write this. I have all the evidence you need. Photos scanned in, analysis - just write this. Get it front page if you can. It's important."

"What the hell am I supposed to be writing, exactly?" Lois scowled.

"You'll know, when you read it. You'll know, when you see it. And be sure to get your partner, Clark Kent, in to help. I'm sure his skills will be valued."

"Why aren't you doing the story?"

Vic hesitated on his end. "I can't. I'm too busy. And... besides. You'll want to let Superman know. ... I've just e-mailed the information. Please, Lois. Please."

"Look. I'll see what you've got, Vic. All right? Then we'll see." Then she paused, coming onto a realization. "Hey, how the hell did you get this number-"

**click.**

Lois grumbled, "He has a lot of nerve." Shoving her cell back into her purse, she paused. Go onto an hour of relaxtion, or check the information that Vic sent her.

Shrugging, she turned and pulled up a chair to her computer, and booted it up. As soon as she went online, she went to her e-mail.

Clicking on her inbox, she double-clicked on the mail from Vic.

Reading and eyeing at the photos, Lois's jaw dropped.

"Oh God," she whispered.

_

* * *

Why couldn't we just stay in that crappy little hole you found?_

"Not locked. Not safe. Don't want to leave your body without it being secure."

_He_ felt a bit touched by that, even if it was by a crazy man who could talk to the dead.

The Question, after he had spoken to Lois and sent the e-mail, had packed what little he had on him, took Blue Beetle's body, then left.

Sticking to the alleyways and darker spots, he continued to wander, peering into homes with his **Sight** and attempting to spot one that was not occupied. Frankly, it was very difficult to come upon one that had been abandoned and was secure.

_Are you sure Lois Lane is going write about me? I mean, I'm just a second-stringer, Question. I'm not going to make a big hit in the papers._

"It is, if she takes into account the evidence I've placed into the e-mail. ... You died doing something you believed in. That's worth front page news. We're going to make sure everyone knows it. Metropolis is just the first spot. Hoping to make my way into Keystone and contact Linda West next. ... Carrying you isn't going to be easy, though. Don't know who I can take you to, frankly."

_The JLA. Seriously... Booster can't do it. The JLA's your next bet._

The Question's voice darkened. "Don't want to deal with them. Don't want to deal with aliens and metahumans playing Gods."

_For crying out loud, Question, you can trust them._

"As they trusted you?" The faceless man shook his head. "No. They misplaced their faith. Won't misplace mine."

_...Oracle. You can contact Oracle._

That had merit. "Maybe." The Question paused in an abandoned construction site. "Superman first. Then Oracle. Step at a time, Ted."

Both soul and man paused their conversation. The faceless man looked up, spying the very individual chi of a Kryptonian flying overhead. It was very convenient timing.

_Probably heard you._

"Probably," Question agreed. "Got his attention, then. Good."

_Pretty fast._

"Lois probably forwarded him the information." The no-faced man knelt down, keeping the body cradled in his arms. "Doesn't make for a great meeting of any kind, though."

_Them's the brakes, I guess?_

The Question shrugged.

Eventually, the Man of Steel descended from the skies above, lowering himself so that he landed only a few feet apart from both the man in the trenchcoat and the dead man in his arms. Suffice to say, the shock and anger on Superman's face wasn't any that could be described in full detail; after all, the Question only had seconds to think of it before the Kryptonian approached, hand out to grab the front of the faceless man's jacket. Did not lift him, though. Did not disturb Blue Beetle.

"What did you do, Sage?" Superman demanded, his voice dark.

"Do you care because it was Ted, or do you care because it's death?" Question tilted his head calmly. "For the record, I had nothing to do with Ted dying."

_God damn it, he looks ready to kill you, fuck, QUESTION-_

"Shhh," the Question assured Ted.

"He was a friend; of course I care!" Superman released him, feeling relatively secure that the Question hadn't been responsible. Killing was not below his style; however, it didn't make sense for him to have gone out of his way to do it to Beetle, then drag his body around.

The Man of Steel pointed at Question. "What happened to Beetle?"

"Now you want to know. And now you will listen." The Question did not leave his position. "He attempted to gain help. He tried to get the League to listen. The JLA. The JSA. Whatever exists, whatever organization of **Gods** hover over the planet, he tried to get their attention."

"He did. He reported the kryptonite-"

"You will listen," the Question told him sharply. "There's something more than just over a hundred pounds of something that could kill you, Superman. There's a problem. Something bigger than any of us, and it brought Ted his death. Something deep, that wasn't enough for your attention."

"And you? How do you know about all of this?" Superman narrowed his eyes. "I wasn't aware you were that close of an associate with Beetle."

"Wasn't, really. Partnered once, years ago. But I'm the only one he can talk to now."

The Kryptonian paused, eyeing at him. "He's talking to you."

_It's all I can do_ was grumbled.

"Yes."

"I can only find that slightly more believable than cities talking to you, Sage. Now you want me to think someone who's died is talking to you." Superman was getting upset, as if this was all a horrible prank that the faceless vigilante was pulling on him.

It was incredibly offensive.

The Question's voice darkened, angered. "I'm between two worlds. I can **Hear** what you can't, **See** what you can't. Believe it or not, there are sights and sounds beyond even your capability. I know what I'm doing. You didn't, the moment you disregarded Ted. That, I won't forgive, even for **Gods**."

"We're not Gods, we have limits-"

"You pretend. That's enough to conceive a name." The Question tilted his head. "The Justice **Gods**."

_This is so NOT the time to be pissing off a guy who can burn you with his eyes._

"Not here to banter. Not here..." Question shook his head. Had to keep himself in line. "Ted was on to something. I need Lois to announce his death first. Need the world to know that much at first. Need everyone to realize how deaf they've been."

"What was it Ted couldn't tell us?"

The faceless man's fists clenched. "He tried to tell. No one listened. Michael and Diana did. Michael's in the hospital, Diana was too busy. Still is. Tried to tell. No one wanted to listen. Not even a mind-reader."

"To be fair, J'onn has his hands full."

"To be fair, **Clark Kent**, to be FAIR, it was Ted who made the first step. Who voiced and no one listened because he is, what you may think, a fool. The fool is disregarded in too many senses: as a jester in Western culture, and as someone who gives without thought in Eastern. The fool began what the **Gods** will finish. To be fair-"

"Will you stop referring to us as that?" Superman kept his eyes on the Question. Perhaps Blue Beetle's body in his arms was unnerving. It wasn't as if someone in the JLA hadn't died before, but regardless. It was unnerving to think of, to KNOW of the dead body being cradled with such care was before him. "What is it Ted can't tell us?"

_Jeez, stop trying to piss him off..._

"Ted found something," Question repeated quietly. "Ever heard of Checkmate?"

"It's a U.S. government agency. What's your point?" Superman's tone was impatient.

_Can't blame him for a little impatience. You're carrying around **my** dead body._

The Question tilted his head. "Maxwell Lord. He's involved."

"You're kidding."

"Am I joking, carrying Ted's body in my arms? Am I joking?"

Superman scowled. "I find it hard to believe Max is involved, but then again, he's been involved in the League. What else?"

"They had profiles on all of you. Everyone. You, Clark Kent. Batman, Bruce Wayne. Wonder Woman. Green Arrow. Starman. Captain Marvel. S.T.A.R. Labs. The DEO. Everyone. ...Ted deleted the files, but regardless, that isn't putting you in any less danger."

"So Max is involved with Checkmate. With files on us."

"Probably to watch you, wipe you out, or whatever he intends, yes."

"Hm." Superman peered at the Question. Disbelief was on his face and in his tone of voice. "I don't know how you expect me to believe that."

"Benefit of the doubt," the faceless man snarled at him. "Give us the benefit of the doubt. You owe it to me."

"**I** owe **you**?"

"Few years ago ring a bell? The Science Spire. Your ignorance **then** nearly cost you. Metropolis called out for me, I came to your rescue. If it wasn't for me, Luthor would have fried your **Kryptonian** ass with chi. Don't let your ignorance **now** cost you. Owe me your ears, since you lost your chance with Ted."

Superman winced, but he still hesitated. Then, considered.

"And don't tell me 'I'll look into it'," Question growled.

Sighing softly, the Man of Steel nodded. "So Maxwell is doing this... why?"

"Perhaps he fears what he considers **Gods**..." The faceless man paused, looking into the distance. Looking beyond Superman, looking beyond buildings. **Seeing**.

_Checkmate_ was spoken fearfully. _Question, RUN._

"Take Ted. Take him somewhere safe. Keep him safe, or you'll regret it," the Question ordered fiercely. "Let nothing else happen to his body." Standing up, he held out the body to Superman; the Man of Steel hesitated, looking down at Blue Beetle. "Don't pause; take him. Now. ...Ted trusts you, so I'll have to for now."

Superman sighed. "All right. What's going on?" He took the body into his arms carefully.

"Max is making his move on me." Question turned around, gazing towards the bodies preparing to stalk towards him. "You should go. We'll meet again soon."

The Kryptonian glanced towards the direction the faceless man was looking. Using x-ray vision, no doubt. "I can't see their faces. Lead lining."

"Go. Don't want them to know I told you anything."

Superman glanced at him reluctantly, then took off into the air.

Turning to follow where the Man of Steel took off, the Question pressed against his belt buckle. Some gas leaked out, and he took in a slow, steady breath, breathing in some of the gas. Stimulation, it helped him **See**. And then, he simply focused.

_What're you doing?_ was in disbelief.

"Masking him and you. For a few seconds. Enough to keep them unsuspicious." A few seconds indeed; afterwards, he turned. "Superman can take it from there. Maybe get the JLA involved. We'll see about contacting who we need to after we leave."

_Damn it, stop talking to me and RUN, Question_ was begged.

He shrugged. "They'll keep following." The faceless man did finally turn and start off through the abandoned construction site, his steps silent and allowing him some stealth. "They'll keep hounding, until they're gone or I'm gone."

_Lord, I'm sorry I got you involved..._

"No," he muttered sharply. "Don't blame yourself." Question leapt over rusting beams. "It was appropriate I got involved. Don't let it bother you, even if I do meet an unfortunate fate."

_You're real cheerful. But then again, you talk to dead people_ and _he _sighed.

The Question left the construction site, moving on his way towards the maze that was the alleys of Metropolis. It would, presumably, provide him with better cover and allow him a better opportunity to find a way to escape.

That was on the account that the people who were following him didn't know the city as well as they should.

And they knew it better than that, even, with Maxwell Lord on the lead.

This, Question figured, after he **Saw** what was ahead. Just a man standing in wait, and with the way the alleys and walls were guiding him, he couldn't avoid a meeting.

"I was predicted..." he muttered, almost in disbelief. "Ted, did they have files on me, too?"

_Shit, Question, they had everyone. Me, Booster, probably you too._

"Glorious."

Turning a corner, the Question was prepared to continue running and take his escape. However, he found himself face-to-face with Maxwell himself.

"The opportunity to see you face to face is definitely an honor. You've gotten so far, so quickly. I wasn't expecting much from a mental cased vigilante from Hub City, but I'm quite happy for the surprise." Max grinned at him, holding out a hand in a gesture. His nose began to dribble with blood. "**Sit**."

The Question's willpower was, typically, strong. However... the amount of influence was enough to make him wobble and stumble until he fell backwards with only a hand to catch and support him.

_Question!_ was screamed at him. _No no NO-!_

A gun was lifted, aimed at the Question. "I don't really expect you to be willing to join us, so I'll save us both the trouble."

_Get up, GET UP!_ was pleaded, as _he_ tried desperately to reach at him.

Yet that was enough influence.

The faceless man managed to twist away from where he was forced to lay by mindpower alone, hearing a bullet be shot, feeling it pierce through his side. With a growl, he acknowledged his injury.

But he wasn't dead, and that was with consideration.

Full of grace, the Question leapt, landing a foot against Max's hand to knock away his weapon, the other landing against his ribs with enough force to crack one. Maxwell landed on his back with the Question standing on him.

The no-faced man looked over his shoulder. "They're coming here."

_Damn it you're BLEEDING, get OUT OF THERE, Question!_

"I know," Question whispered. "I know." He leapt off of Max and took off quickly down the streets.

"It doesn't matter, Sage! It doesn't matter, because we can trace you down!" Maxwell Lord yelled after him.

Silently, he ran across the paved ground, quickly as he could while he ignored the bleeding and aching wound on his side. It screamed at him to be noticed, to be given care, but he could not spare the moment to perform any basic firstaid on himself. The Question needed to live, even for just awhile longer.

_Where can you go? Fuck, he can follow you - he knows this city._

"I know the sewers," Question muttered to him. "The Subterraneans. Their old routes. Superman knows them. Maxwell doesn't. Or at least won't think of it. He's too confident I'll use the ground above to be saved or noticed by someone - the public or Superman."

_How do you figure?_

"Because he's a cocky bastard." The Question found a manhole, and lifted up the lid with some strain - it pumped out more blood and he could hear Ted's reaction - and began to climb down. Not before he settled the lid back on top of the manhole did he continue all the way down.

_Superman knows where you're going?_

"If he doesn't... I'm giving him too much credit..." the faceless man muttered. "Was here, a few years ago. Subterraneans, a group working under Superman's nose. Under Lex Luthor, when he still had LexCorp. Luthor was making the Science Spire, which was channeling Metropolis's chi. A weapon, to kill Superman. Earth energy. Magic, some might call it."

_You don't?_

"Nn. Makes me think of a terrible magician I saw when I was younger..." Question shook his head. "Don't like the term. Not endearing."

Hobbling his way through the sewers, he slammed his shoulder roughly against a wall, which proved to be false. It appeared brick, but fell over without a problem. Old, rusted. One lead, apparently. The Question continued down the route, towards what appeared to be an abandoned subway station.

He let himself lean against a wall and slide down against it, taking in a deep breath.

_Oh God. God, don't die-_

"Won't." Question shook his head. "Won't. Stop worrying."

_I can't do ANYTHING._

"You can speak," he murmured. "That's enough..."

_Okay. Fine. I can talk. Woohoo, good for me. How's that going to keep you from bleeding your insides out?_

"Keep me awake. Need to stay awake until Superman comes. Talk, Ted. Talk."

_He_ considered. _I can tell you when Batman knocked Guy out. I love that._

"Fine. Just talk."

_He_ began to talk away fondly, of what _he_ might have considered better days. Days that were missed and days were _he_ wasn't simply a second-stringer then. Or at least, _he_ hadn't really thought that way then.

The Question listened. Through death, Ted still remained lively.

Irony. It almost made him smirk.

It was about an hour; Ted had drifted off subject about Black Canary being depressed for weeks about not having seen Guy getting decked and had instead began to talk about the events of the past few days. Kord Industries, Booster Gold, the JLA, everything. It made the Question feel something fierce spark in him. It made him feel anger, frustration, again. Everything boiled in him.

The Question hoped that they would be heard.

"There you are."

An hour. He had been bleeding for an hour. The Question glanced up. "...About time..."

He allowed himself the grace to go unconscious, and _he_ cried out desperately.

* * *

Eventually, he began to wake up - his mind, anyway, was taking the first steps. The rest of his body prefered to rest, and as it was, he felt weak anyway. But it was enough to allow Ted to talk to him again, with relief.

_I was flipping the FUCK out, you stupid prick._

Behind his mask, Question smirked.

_Superman snagged you and we left. You're all right now. J'onn patched you up, but you still need a blood transfusion._

This caused the Question quickly force the rest of his body to wake up. "I'm in the Watchtower-?" The rest of his air was gone as he gasped and felt sharp pain in his side. He had opened his eyes and attempted to sit up. It hadn't been a very bright move on his part.

_Yep. Welcome to the Watchtower. Nice view._

The Question gripped the sheets below his body, looking around, **Seeing** a figure approaching down the hall. "Why here."

_Best medical equipment. I was listening in. Superman and J'onn were talking; looks like you got through their alien heads about Checkmate, or at least taking what I said seriously. J'onn's been working with Diana on the case._ Fortunately, in spite of events, _he_ sounded pleased.

"Don't want to be here," Question muttered.

_Why not? Like I said,best medical equipment around, you know._

"I don't walk among **Gods**."

_He_ sighed. _You have some real issues._

"Nnn." The Question peered down his bed, watching a tall and broad green man step through the doorway with a billowing blue cloak around his body. As tall, as powerful as Superman.

Yet all the wiser.

The faceless man felt completely uncomfortable in his presence, watching him with his **Sight**. The Martian's chi was much more earthly than Superman's. Low, dark browns and greens, moving slowly, patiently. Old. Yet powerful.

The power was what made him feel discomfort.

_**Do not fear me, Vic Sage. How do you fair?**_

The Question flinched.

_As if you don't have enough voices talking to you_ was smirked at him.

"Hurt. Weak. Need blood. When?" Question tilted his head. "Not safe," he muttered. Not safe amongst the **Gods**. The fools did not walk with **Gods**. Why was he here, of all places?

_**On the contrary, this is the safest place you can possibly be at the moment, Victor. And you will receive the transfusion when we have the proper amount for your blood type, which should be quite soon. You are here, because you know what we must know. I have... been investigating some, during the time in which I can spend doing so. And much the same for Diana.**_

"Hn." Question didn't sound impressed. They should have believed Ted in the first place. They should have started days ago. "Where's the body?"

_**We are... taking care of that. The loss is quite unfortunate.**_ The Martian's physical expression didn't describe his guilt.

The Question could **See** it.

"Who else knows about Ted?"

_**We have informed some. Diana is aware. Kyle Rayner...**_

_Booster. Ask him about Booster._

"What about Michael?" Question peered at him.

_**We have not contacted him as of yet, seeing as he is still hospitalized. I do not believe it would settle well at this point.**_

_He_ sighed, wearily. _Booster..._

"Fine." The Question glanced at Ted. "I'll tell him, when I can. Doesn't help, being chased." He paused, almost horrified. "...Is Maxwell Lord aware of...?"

_**We have not told him of your whereabouts, nor do I see any reason to inform him of such a thing.**_ J'onn considered. _**What is it you fear?**_

"Of course Superman didn't tell you," the Question muttered. "Guess who put a bullet in me." He tapped his head. "Read my mind, if you have to." Weakly, his arm dropped back to the bed.

Hesitantly, the Martian Manhunter approached. "Your mind is... a fair bit more erratic than I am used to. Which is why I have been speaking telepathetically... step by step, to adjust myself. However..."

"Don't feel comfortable in my head, then."

"No," J'onn admitted. "What you truly believe in, what you truly believe to see and hear, I cannot distinguish from what is reality."

The Question was not happy with that kind of answer. "I know who shot me. And I know who's responsible for Ted's death. Read my mind. Maybe one of you **Gods** will finally **See**."

There was hesitation, until J'onn nodded. "When you are well. It ... shall be a strain for both of us. For now, I will prepare the blood transfusion. Rest, Victor Sage." The Martian turned and stepped down the hallway.

Question squinted behind his mask, **Seeing** J'onn approach the main bridge, where both Superman and Wonder Woman were.

_Well, on one hand, at least J'onn will know you're telling the truth when he reads your mind. On the other hand, you being crazy isn't gonna help._

"It'll help. But when it's done, I have to leave."

_Are you NUTS? You're being hunted down, Question. Max is going to KILL you. He... fuck, don't do this, okay? You've done enough. For crying out loud..._

"Need to let the world know. Need to talk to people. Need to finish. A start, yes. A start. And I need to finish. Need to." The Question stared at Ted. "Need to make them know..."

_Fuck, don't get killed because of me._

"Won't. Don't plan to, so I won't." The Question shook his head.

_Damn it, why do I end up with the crazy people, even when I'm dead?_ was grumbled.

Another smug expression was formed behind the Question's mask.

* * *

**Notes:**

I've surprised myself and continued this little fic. It's definitely spinning away from the main DC storyline now, I guess. I suppose it's now a 'what if' fic in this case. Regardless, I'm having fun writing it, as I hope you're all having fun reading it.

Keep reviewin'! Cheers!


	3. The Hike on Mount Olympus

**Disclaimers and Useless/Useful Stuff to Know:**

Don't own any of these characters. Never will. Wish I did. Major spoilers for "Countdown to Infinite Crisis". Good idea to read the comic first. Also, spoilers for the Question six-issue miniseries.

* * *

**Warning: The Pool is Contaminated**

by Alba Aulbath

* * *

An hour into his stay at the Watchtower, and eventually the Question had been given a sufficent enough amount of blood, enough to allow him a steady recovery. Though most would allow themselves the rest, one like the faceless man was more the restless type instead. Ted had done his part in attempting to convince him to just sleep, but instead there was refusal. 

In spite of everything, the Question did not feel safe in the Watchtower.

_Look, the JLA aren't the kind of guys who'll kill you in your sleep. Or kill you at all._

"Max would." Question's tone, naturally, had been dark and forboding. Unforgiving. Bitter.

_He _frowned. _Max isn't here. Max wouldn't be able to know that you're here. J'onn said he didn't tell, and at this point I don't think Superman would._

"The Amazon?"

_Diana? Please. Yeah right. So get some sleep, will ya?_

Question shook his head. "Not safe," he muttered. "Not when the League knows I'm here. Entire League. Max will know."

Ted gave up for the moment, but remained around the area. Not once, since _he _contacted Question, had _he _left. Perhaps there was no where else to go. Perhaps afraid of what was beyond, if _he _let go of what anchored _him _to this plane of existence.

The fear was understood.

Question peered down the hallway, looking. Listening.

He **Heard.**

**"J'onn, I was wondering. A friend of mine disappeared recently. I doubt you know who he is - a bit more infamous than most masked men these days - but I've gotten concerned. He has a mask that renders him faceless. Don't suppose you could look for me?"**

**"In the midst of things, I am unsure if I can spare a moment right now to look. ...A name?"**

**"He tends to call himself the Question."**

**"...I see. I will notify you if I come by him."**

**"Of course, of course."**

The Question's hands clenched. "He knows."

_What? How could he?_

"If I disappear off the face of the planet, where else could I be?"

_Point._

"Have to leave," Question murmured. He sat up, grabbing from a nearby table for his shirt and coat. "Now. Have to leave now. Ted, need a way out."

_Question..._

"You're my guide. Help me."

_Lemme see you get up and walk, and I'll think about it._ The tone was wry, as was the look _he _gave him.

"Ted." Question turned his head in the direction where _he _was. "Help me."

_Look, I just wanna see you walk. So walk._

There was a mutter from the faceless man, aggravated. Setting aside his folded clothes, he gripped the side of the bed tightly as he began to sit up and ease himself to his feet. There was definite pain, as he leaned away from placing pressure on his wounded side. Stepping tentatively to the floor, he wavered faintly. Yet, stubbornly, the Question remained standing as he glanced at him to grant him a "so there" expression.

_He _shook his head. _No good. You look ready to fall on your ass. Besides, you haven't even really taken a step, and I told you to walk._

"Ted..."

_Hey, hey, hey! Don't you "Ted" me, and you get back to bed._

Question grunted at him and eventually sat himself back down at the edge of the mattress. "Can't stay..."

_You're perfectly safe. You have the Man of Steel and a psychic hanging around._

"Don't trust them. Won't listen to us."

_No offense, but if some faceless guy from Hub City came up to me talking about a dead guy and all that other random crap you spew, I'd probably try not to listen, either._ The Question peered. _Um. Joking?_

"Hn." The no-faced man lifted his head, **Seeing **J'onn down the hallway.

It appeared the Martian also noticed him in his **Sight**, turning his head. **_You should not worry so, Victor. You have heard my conversation with Maxwell?_**

The Question nodded.

_**There is nothing to fear. Even if he has intentions to harm you, he would be incapable of doing so.**_

_Such a subtle way of saying 'you're crazy'._

"Ted," Question grumbled.

**_If you require anything else, I will know. Please sleep, Victor._** The Martian turned away and returned to his duties at the bridge.

_He _gestured towards where J'onn was, down the hall and at the main console. _See? Totally safe_.

"Not safe."

_Lord, you're so damned stubborn._

Instead of lying himself down, the Question remained seated upright. Though he refused himself the need of rest - it'd been about two days or so since his last hour of sleep - he was fully aware of the temptation. Regardless, he felt he couldn't risk it, especially not in the Watchtower. Not when Max Lord was fully capable of spotting him and prepared to get rid of him for good.

Broken away from his thoughts, he heard the intercom sputter static at him before speaking a clear word,

"Checkmate."

Then it was gone. Question lifted his head, the brow area of his mask creasing into a scowl. "Ted." It was a way of inquiring 'you heard that too?'

_I guess I can't pretend I didn't hear it...?_

"Hm."

_"Hm" he says. As if you're NOT smug, Mr. I-Told-You-So._

"Not smug," Question muttered. "Need to..."

_Leave, I know. Okay. I don't like the idea of making you move when you've barely even recovered, though._

The Question did not make any attempts to reply; he had, once again, gotten himself distracted. **Seeing **a familiar Kryptonian begin his way down the hall, across from the Watchtower. Steady, quickly, coming towards his way.

"Where's Superman coming from? What room?"

_I think... left from the bridge, where the teleporting pods are?_

The Question's grip tightened on the sheets to the mattress. He was much more unsafe than he had presumed. Much slower than he liked, the faceless man pushed himself to his feet, wincing. Grabbing his trenchcoat and fedora - there was no time to fuss about putting on a shirt - he wavered as weak steps slowly brought him across the room.

Though he had his **Sight**, he was also fully aware of Superman being capable of x-ray vision; he was no doubt aware of the Question's struggle towards the door.

Also, there was the superspeed. The Question had only taken three steps, and Superman was at the doorway.

"Superman..." the Question began hesitantly. However, the Man of Steel did not respond, and instead stepped inside, placing his hand over a switch next to the doorframe. The door slid closed.

Superman then broke the switch, essentially locking both of them inside.

_Oh shit..._

"How long can Max control people?" Question stumbled away, attempting to keep his distance from Superman. Though it wouldn't likely do him a lot of good, considering the several powers the Kryptonian had.

_I don't know. He said... before I... you know... he said he could even make Superman kill for him. I thought he was just bragging... Fuck!_

The Man of Steel moved in a blink of an eye. All of the training in the world could not prepare the Question against the likes of Superman, no matter how talented he was in martial arts. The Kryptonian had slammed a fist against the faceless man's ribcage - which was essentially, in a matter of comparison, like a sledgehammer striking him.

Thrown across the room from the force, the Question felt his back land against the edge of one of the medical beds. Lifting his head, in spite of the pain, he saw Superman's eyes heating up.

"J'onn!" the Question shouted for the Martian, while he concentrated on his chi. Before he could be struck with heat vision, the faceless man projected his chi to leap and strike at Superman, taking him to the floor. A normal, physical blow from a human would have done little to nothing to the likes of the Man of Steel.

Earth chi, however, was not so kind to Superman, knocking him away and even likely bruising him.

The locked door was torn down by the Martian Manhunter, who stepped in the middle of the room with a shocked expression on his normally calm face. **_Victor, can you stand?_**

"Nn." Question grabbed onto the edge of the bed he'd landed against the side of, pulling himself up. He hadn't been able to project his chi very long considering how weak he felt, so Superman was slowly gathering himself back to his feet.

J'onn turned to the Man of Steel. "Superman?" Confusion in the psychic's tone.

The Kryptonian was disorientated, holding his head. "That's... strange. What...?" He then looked horrified. "Sage?" Superman turned sharply towards the faceless man.

"Alive." Question shrugged.

_Fuck, it was Max, wasn't it?_

"Yes." He did not doubt it in the least. Question turned his head towards J'onn. "Not safe here. Need to leave."

_**You believe it was Maxwell Lord who was responsible.**_

"You peeked. But that's the general idea." The faceless man nodded. "He called you about me. Previous to getting involved in what Ted was researching, I had never met him. Not until he shot me. He knows I'm up here, and he wants me gone."

J'onn's eyes narrowed faintly. **_For what reason?_**

"Know too much. Know what happened to Ted." The Question turned his head in his direction. "Know about them. So he used Superman to try to deal with me."

"That's insane. Max is no where nearly that powerful," Superman denied, then hesitated. "...Something happened, but I don't see how you can blame Maxwell Lord of all people."

_It probably was him. When he was talking to J'onn - if he knows the system enough and has experts working for him - it would have been just long enough to infiltrate the security system to use the cameras. To see if you were here._

"Good enough for me," the Question agreed with him. "Superman came from the teleporting pods. Come from Metropolis recently, Superman?"

"Yes, but-"

"Max shot me in Metropolis," the Question muttered. "That's enough for me to be convinced he controlled you."

Superman turned to the Martian Manhunter. "J'onn?"

The psychic hesitated, glancing towards the faceless man. Silently, he gazed, and the Question could tell he was attempting to scan his mind.**_ ...I do see Maxwell in his memories_**, he admitted. "But I cannot tell a delusion apart from a true memory."

"Then I'm delusional," the Question said darkly. "To you. I'm crazy."

_Hell, even I know that._

"Shut up, Ted."

Superman eyed at Question, brow raised faintly. Regardless of his expression towards the no-faced man's conversation with the dead man, the Kryptonian chose not to remark.

Still, his face said enough.

"I'm leaving," the faceless man murmured, shaking his head.

_**Victor, you are even more injured now.**_

"Then set my bones and send me on my merry way."

The Man of Steel shook his head. "We can't keep him here against his will, J'onn. Humor him."

"Ha ha," the Question murmured, his tone biting.

Eventually, the Martian approached the faceless man, guiding him to a seat. "Very well. Please, relax." With carefully guided hands, the Martian Manhunter readjusted the broken ribs. "You should receive medical attention... but as Superman says, we cannot force that upon you. Still, I hope you make a wise decision for yourself. You are weary, you are injured. Do not pointlessly push yourself."

After his bones were set, the Question stood up. "...Nothing I do is pointless. Ted, tell me the way out of here."

_All right. Go down towards the bridge - yeah, this way. Come on._

As the faceless man stepped out, Superman glanced towards the Martian Manhunter. "His claims - do you think it has any merit...?"

_**It is plausible. Likely, I am not sure. I can safely say that he has several mental illnesses, but I can also say that... through his eyes, he does see things that even we cannot. I am not entirely sure what technique he is using.**_

"He says he walks between two worlds - but I think he can see chi. He used it on me before you came in." Superman had guilt in his tone; he was aware someone controlled him, just not who was responsible. "Is he really speaking to Ted?"

_**I am incapable of knowing that. In his mind, he sees and hears him. Though, we cannot. It may explain why he knows what he knows, but his condition also suggests lack of sanity. I cannot confirm anything without further study into his mind.**_

"And we're letting him go." Superman sighed.

_**What other choice do we have...?**_

"None, I suppose."

* * *

Outside of Keystone, beams of light appeared before the Question made his way towards the city. It was calmer than Gotham, not as brilliantly glowing at Metropolis was. It almost seemed to be neutral ground, which was something he respected. Gazing into the city, he watched the blinding lights of energy moving at a rapid pace, lingering energy from the speedsters who guarded this city well. 

_Doesn't look like how Metropolis did._

"Metropolis is primarily earth energy. Looks more like lightning, doesn't it?" The Question tilted his head, then continued on his way towards Keystone.

_Guess it makes sense. I kinda thought all the cities have the same kind of 'energy' or whatever you call it._

"Most do. Keystone is different. Speedsters tap into an energy source beyond everything else. And what do they call that?"

_What, the Speed Force?_

Question nodded. "The lingering energy effects the city. But it's energy we can use to our advantage."

_How?_

"We're in Keystone for two reasons. One, to have Linda Park-West report a story on the late Blue Beetle. Second... to make the Flash walk between two worlds, even for only a moment."

The Question made his way into the city.

* * *

While one was busy protecting a city, things were bound to happen without your knowing around the world, no matter how fast you were; that was what Wally learned constantly. Even the Fastest Man Alive had limitations to how quickly news could travel. So he had learned a few disturbing things from J'onn. 

One, Blue Beetle had died. Shot to the head. His body had been taken to the Watchtower.

Second, a real piece of work who called himself the Question had been the first to discover Beetle's fate and body claimed he could see and talk to Ted.

Honestly, there wasn't much about the Question that Wally knew; only from some word of mouth, Superman and Batman alike. Still, it was enough to convince him that the faceless vigilante probably needed to be locked up with some other nutjobs. It was offensive, to him, that someone was claiming they were speaking to a dead man. Someone he knew. Even if Blue Beetle was a prankster and probably should have been doing things other than running around in a suit, he'd been part of the League before. He'd been one of them. And he'd been killed doing the right thing - presumably.

It was something they'd all like to assume happened.

What came as a faint surprise to him was when Linda had called him over to the computer briefly.

Brief it was, after he saw the e-mail she had received. No return address; just some words and photos and it was enough to get Wally irritated.

Turning away, he had left, red suit and all.

The last line had read:

_P.S.  
__Wally can use this map to find me._

It looked like a simple MapQuest gif, but Wally had merely glanced over it before he ran out the door, well on his way to confront the one responsible for the e-mail. It was an unnecessary one, but it had asked for Linda to report a story on Blue Beetle's death.

From what he had heard, someone also requested Lois Lane do the same.

So the Flash was running down the street, alongside a tower, to the very top, to the roof. The exact location given to him on the map.

Standing was a man in a beaten trenchcoat that'd seen better days with a matching fedora set neatly on the top of his head, tilted down to shade away a faceless face. He also wore leather gloves, slacks, boots that could use some attention. It appeared he wasn't, for whatever reason could be conceived, wearing a shirt; it made the bandages around his abdomen evident.

Instead of greeting him, the faceless man had his head turned in a direction, looking at something. "It'll work," he said.

It was as if he was talking to someone.

The Flash narrowed his eyes. "So you're the Question."

"Hmm." The no-faced vigilante lifted his head, looking in the Fastest Man's direction. "Wasted no time, I see." Glancing away to the same direction as he had before, he scoffed, "To prove a point, Ted."

"**Pardon**?"

"Not talking to you." Question tilted his head, facing the Flash. "Need you to understand. Need you to know." He muttered, "Not crazy." He shot a glance to the side again. "Not."

His behavior wasn't really convincing. "Uh-huh," the Flash muttered, voice toned in sarcasm. "Who the heck are you talking to?"

"Ted." The Human Enigma peered toward the hero in red. "You know him."

"You're the one who found Beetle; you know he's dead. How do you expect anyone to believe you're NOT crazy when you claim to be talking to a dead guy?"

"I can **See**. I can **Hear **him. Talk to him. He came to me, I followed. Need to make the world **See**. Or at least... one person. Enough to make the rest do the same." The Question approached Flash, doing in odd sort of limp, as if to ease his wounded side. "Not crazy." He shook his head. "Need to make you **See**, Wally."

The Flash glared at him. "How did-"

"I peeked." The faceless man peered at him with his uncanny lack of features. Though it was a mask, there was definitely something unsettling about it. "Looked. Files. From Checkmate. Files on everyone. You. Superman. Wonder Woman. Booster Gold. Blue Beetle. Ted deleted them - not before he uploaded them onto a secure server. Several fire walls up. I can access them - only when Ted's help. Know about you. Know about most. Know about the Speed Force."

Nothing could possibly describe the puzzled expression on the Flash's face. So the Question continued.

"The Speed Force. Speedsters tap into it to use their speed. You, most of all." The faceless man pointed at the Fastest Man Alive. "You've used the Speed Force for yourself. Used it to go beyond limits. Used it, could **See**. Use it to **See **now. Prove me right."

"Assuming you're right."

"I am."

"Look." The Flash folded his arms. "I appreciate that you found Beetle. Seriously... he was a good guy. But, that doesn't give you the right to parade around, claiming you're talking to him. He's gone; maybe you're the one who's having trouble letting go of this."

It was quite possible that the Question was glaring at him. It wasn't necessarily that Flash could see it, but rather, in a way, he could feel it. It was unsettling. The faceless man peered at him, voice darkened, "Then use the Speed Force. **See**. Prove me wrong. Prove me I'm delusional. Prove to me I'm not in reality. Prove it, Wally West."

"How exactly can I use the Speed Force to see anything?"

Question shrugged. "Just tap into it. Just do it. I know. What I'm doing..."

"Sure you do."

"Look. Look, and see if you can prove me wrong." The Question crossed his arms.

The Flash was greatly inclined to tell him a flat out, resounding 'no'. After all, it was crazy; how could this man see the dead? Speak with them? Hear them? It was insanity. Superman had basically informed them as much, at any rate. Still, if it was a chance to at least show this madman that he was completely and utterly delusional, then it was probably a chance to finally put a stop to all of this nonsense.

"Fine, fine." The Scarlet Speedster shook his head.

There was concentration involved as he began to tap into the Speed Force. The speed, the race, the absolute fastness of it all always enthralled him, and it was the same feeling every single time-

What he didn't expect was for the Question to squeeze his belt buckle, and a gas in a faint yellow color coming out. It wasn't the Flash's intention to inhale it, but he did from performing a surprised gasp, then immediately coughed. "What did you...?"

"Stimulation. It acts as a catalyst. Only a little bit; won't kill you. If you breathed in a lot, well then..." The Question shrugged. "Using the Speed Force?"

"Yeah, I..." The Flash hesitated, looking around. His vision didn't quite... blur, but it seemed to blink between his normal sight and something completely unexplanable.

Keystone was absolutely gorgeous, with streaming lights moving at his own speed, rapidly and admirably. It was a haven. Heaven, if you will. At least, in sight.

Or **Sight**. What was the difference? Flash could **See **there was.

"Holy shit," he whispered.

"Gets better." The faceless man turned, stepping aside. "Look around the area, Wally."

The Flash turned his head to follow where Question was walking, but his eyes locked onto someone he was sure hadn't been there before.

_He _waved hesitantly.

It was very difficult to place shock into the Flash, but here had been a moment. He was speechless. He stared.

The gas didn't have a long effect on him; his metabolism had worked it out of his system quickly. And yet, even when his vision returned to normal, did he continue staring. That had been Blue Beetle, he was sure.

But Blue Beetle was very dead.

"What the hell did I just see?" Flash's voice was barely above being soundless.

The Question placed his hands into his coat pockets. "Into chi. You've just had a taste of the art of feng shui; the typical 'master' you see and hear of, normally, is the kind that utilizes their abilities to set things in certain positions in a room for energy flow. A true master sees into a world of energy, of chi. Even the dead, their lingering unfortunate souls, have chi. Ted included. The Speed Force, from what I understand, is a force with energy. Lightning energy, is the best way to describe it. Because of the speedsters that run around in this city, the energy lingers here. This is a special city; most are of earth energy. Utilizing both the Speed Force and the energy that's been drifting in Keystone, along with the gas, you were capable of seeing chi. Even for a little while."

"...And what about you? You see this chi?"

"I walk between two worlds. Constantly, I'm seeing both the physical plane of existence, and our essence." The Question turned towards where the Flash had seen Blue Beetle, even for only a moment. "Hearing those left behind. Ted included. He found something of interest - something he attempted to bring to the attention of everyone. Something everyone ignored. He asked me to help, after he died."

The Flash remained speechless for a moment. While he still firmly believed that the Question needed mental help, it was apparently true; Blue Beetle was indeed talking to him, lingering around. What was it that needed their attention so badly? What had Beetle died trying to do?

"What is it?" Flash asked. "What happened?"

"Checkmate. A government system, that much you know. What Ted and I know is, it's an organization that had developed profiles on every single metahuman, every single vigilante, every single madman on this planet. Ted investigated when no one else listened. He erased their files, after he secured his own copies into a folder on an integrated system based on Batman's layouts from his computer. I checked the files sometime ago on my own, to find out about what happened to Ted and his location. Had to do it on Nightwing's computer; it was connected with Batman's layouts, easier to access. Hidden folder; only I can access it. Regardless... Checkmate believes it's going to protect Earth from us. From every superpowered man and woman on this world." The Question suddenly paused, lifting his head.

"What is it?" Flash looked over his shoulder, but saw nothing of interested.

The Question shook his head. "...Checkmate. Know too much. They killed Ted. They're trying to do the same with me." He gestured. "You should go. ...Tell those who'll listen. Don't know how long I'll be running until..."

"The League can help, Question."

"No. They've tried. Nearly got me killed." The faceless man turned around. "Do what you can. I'll do things on my end."

The Flash quickly moved to block Question off. "Even if it gets you killed?"

"It's a cause I'm willing to die for."

"How can you say that-"

"Ted did it," Question murmured. "Flash. Don't be deaf. Don't be blind. Let the **Gods **be aware finally." He turned and took off, taking a sudden dive off of the roof.

The speedster raced over to the edge, watching Question land roughly onto a fire escape before leaping off to make a dash down from the streets below.

The Flash sighed softly, then glanced up.

It might have been time for a meeting with the rest of the League.

_

* * *

Didn't get to tell him about Max _was grumbled. 

"It bites," the Question agreed.

The faceless vigilante was running down the streets of Keystone, taking every obscure route that he possibly could. Hugging the shadows at every dark corner and every shady alleyway, he desperately attempted to escape the persistant members of Checkmate. While they had a helicopter in the sky for their eyes, there were also men following him on the streets. Several of them. The Question was used to being surrounded at the night, but not like this. Not by the government, not so many of them. He was confident enough that he could escape and continue on, but it was still going to be close.

Real close.

"They keep track," the no-faced man murmured, glancing over his shoulder, **Seeing **them.

_Max could have rigged the teleporting pod to see where you were headed next. It's not that hard, and he does have access as much as I did. ...Well, not that hard for someone with my brilliance, anyway._

"Modest as ever." Question leapt over a fallen garbage can.

As he kept watch during his run, the armed men feet behind the Question's trail began to slow. The faceless vigilante was not particularly familiar with the city, so his decisions to pick and choose streets had been erratic. It worked well to lose Checkmate, at least thus far.

Keeping up his mad dash, the Question eventually found himself facing a wall. He remained absolutely silent.

_Great, now where? I can walk through walls, but you're still at least human, last I checked. And alive._

"Going up." Question gazed vertically. "Gonna snag a lift. Know how a use a helicopter, Ted?"

_Yeah._

"Good. You're going to tell me how."

While there was a wall blocking him off, there was a fire escape to the Question's left. He made a quick run towards the ladder, leaping up and gripping his gloved hands onto rusted metal. Pulling himself up, he quickly began to run up the fire escape towards the roof. The spotlight shining down from the flying vehicle seemed to easily find the Question as he climbed up towards the top of the roof. This did not slow down the Question, not once hesitating as he began to duck away and dodge from bullets being shot at him.

_He_, of course, thought it was crazy. With the faceless man, it was apparently nothing new.

As the gunfire continued after him even as he evaded, the Question leapt on top of a vent structured atop the roof; it was high enough to allow him to leap off, hands grabbing onto the edge of the open door of the helicopter.

_You are SO INSANE!_

While a gun was leveled at the top of his head, the Question pushed himself up enough so that he grabbed onto the ankle of the gunman, jerking his hand back and causing him to tumble out from the helicopter. Climbing his way inside, the faceless man found himself shot in the arm with what looked to be a tranquilizer dart.

Strange. He didn't feel sleepy.

Shrugging it off for the moment, the Question slammed his elbow into the face of the second gunman, then threw him out the door. The pilot looked at him with panick stricken eyes, toggling between getting rid of the faceless vigilante or controlling the helicopter. While the Human Enigma was prepared to make a decision for him, the pilot decided to leap out of the helicopter on his own, possibly hoping it'd crash with the Question still inside.

"Talk to me, Ted." Question sad himself down, grabbing onto the controls.

_Gently- I SAID GENTLY! Gently, steer us up. No, that makes us go down - THE OTHER WAY! Okay, whew. Jeez, you need lessons; I've seen Booster drive a car better than that._

Question grumbled.

While he began steering the helicopter away from Keystone in no particular direction, the faceless man had started to feel overheated. Feverish, somehow.

There was a pause to think, then a pause for reaction.

The Question winced behind his mask. "Wonderful."

_What's wrong?_

"Got injected with something during our little commandeering." Question wiped his glove across his forehead. "No idea what. Not a tranq. Would have come into effect awhile ago."

_God DAMN it, one thing after another!_

Shaking his head, the faceless vigilante looked on ahead. "Keep on going ahead anyway..."

_You need a doctor!_

"And be found by Max?" Question glanced aside to _him_. "No. ...I'll be fine."

_Lord, you are SO stubborn!_

The Question did not reply.

He simply held onto some quiet hope that he wouldn't end up dead, either from the poison or passing out and crashing the helicopter.

**

* * *

Notes: **

I have no idea if the Speed Force can even allow the Flash to **See**, but I like faking my way around in fiction so hopefully none of ya mind.

Frankly, this has to be the most boring chapter in the entire story. Or at least, I feel that way. How about the rest of ya? D'arrr.

The point of this chapter was to at least release into the JLA that the Question isn't entirely a nutjob, and that he really CAN see Ted. Or at least, energy that claims to be Ted Kord. Regardless, one step at a time to bring out the truth.

**To the lovin' audience:**

**TheQuestionableFool:** I like crazy Question. Even if he denies his lack of sanity, we all know the truth about that! Ever since reading LM's fanfic with Blue Beetle, the Question, and Captain Atom, I haven't been quite able to keep her version of Question out of mine anymore. It was very influential. Makes me really wish she finished that story. I'm very glad you're enjoying this so far; hopefully, you'll continue to do so!

**iamhollywood:** I try to keep from many superheroes from necessarily believing/getting along with Question. I think, basically, the only one to be able to deal with him all right is probably Green Arrow. But then, Question hasn't exactly teamed up with too many heroes He's only met Blue Beetle, Green Arrow, Superman, and Batman, I think. I could definitely be wrong, though; I haven't collected all the comics. Besides, I'm pretty sure they feel similarly about a guy like Question.

**bri's the man:** I like this story too! So I've kept it up indeed!

**Fate8:** Hopefully, you won't need to know much about the Question... but it helps if ya do. Still, he is a unique fellah, and if that doesn't come across, I ain't doin' my writin' right! While Question might be crazy, he's also extremely intelligent and sharp; he's quite the detective in his own right. In regards to NW, he might follow up with what Vic was doing. However, I'm not a particularly good writer for Nightwing - so that's not a story I'm going to explore too much. It may be mentioned offhand later. Yes and no to the Checkmate files; before Ted deleted Checkmate's files, he uploaded them onto a branch of a server under Batman's computer - which is linked and can be accessed from Nightwing's computer. It's likely after Vic reviewed the files, he deleted them before leaving Nightwing's place. It's not something too important, I would think, but if it's something that needs to be cleared up it'll be mentioned in a chapter later.

**Goph: **No dead man is ever gone for good! Especially in the comic world. Regardless, the important point here is that the Question has started what he and Ted hope to be a domino effect - that the start they're making can save the JLA and several others before Checkmate can make their move. That's their hope, anyway. I'm very glad you enjoy my depiction of the Question; I try to incorporate his background, and the missing pieces in the mini-series to points which will be very important later...


	4. Contraindicated Indications

**Disclaimers and Useless/Useful Stuff to Know:**

Don't own any of these characters. Never will. Wish I did. Major spoilers for "Countdown to Infinite Crisis". Good idea to read the comic first. Also, spoilers for the Question six-issue miniseries.

**

* * *

Warning: The Pool is Contaminated**

by Alba Aulbath

* * *

At the moment, he could not walk between two worlds. It was one or the other, and easily caused him to be dizzy. Sweat ran down his face under his mask, and it was getting difficult to breathe. While he pleaded him to land, it was difficult to hear. Difficult to concentrate on this world or the other. 

**Sight **and sight were spinning, and eventually, so was the helicopter.

_Wake up!_

_**I have questions.**_

He lifted his head, squinting, and felt himself slam his head against the control board when the helicopter crashed into a series of wooden docks. Water began to seep its way inside.

"Who else is...?" He couldn't complete the sentence. Too tiring; he was weakening.

_What? What is it? Oh, fuck, c'mon, get up..._

"Someone..." Someone else was talking to him.

_**For once, in my many years, I have questions.**_

The wood under the chopper creaked and broke, and the craft began to sink.

_**I have questions for a Question.**_

Either he had gone unconscious, or had been pulled away by some means; the Question couldn't tell. He found himself staring up into an aged face, a long and well-grown beard on a man in robes. From what the faceless man could tell, there was magic on him. Real, true magic.

"A question for a Question."

The Human Enigma stared blankly.

"I hear that you are good with them."

The Question spoke wryly, "Good question. Haha."

"Indeed." A tired smile was on the old man's face. "Trouble comes in all worlds, and it has begun with this one, with one simple event."

"Ted's death wasn't simple." Question's tone was angry.

"Death appears in all forms. Death is simple. Though I hardly belittle it."

"Who are you?" The faceless man peered at him.

The old man appeared amused. "You walk between two worlds, you are a man of questions, and you are so deeply tied into all these matters, and yet you are unaware of my name. I find that most interesting. Can you answer your own question?"

Hesitation. The Question thought on it, then narrowed his eyes. Magic. Specific magic. He could **See **to an extent, in spite of how weary he felt. "The sorcerer who gave Captain Marvel his powers."

"Yes."

"You talked to Ted before he died." Question paused. "...He told me you hardly ever speak to mortals. Normal men."

"I must say, you and Blue Beetle are hardly simple folk."

Peering at him, the faceless vigilante spoke again, "What did you want to ask?"

The Sorcerer Shazam seemed to consider. "What is the absolute truth worth to you?"

Was that all that he wanted to ask? The Question felt prepared to answer; after all, he was always prepared to put his life on the line for the truth, the absolute truth, to make the world realize it. He wasn't blind, deaf, or dumb; the truth was worth his life.

"Think," Shazam told him.

_It's a celebration of life, not death._

Ted had been willing to die for the truth - hadn't that been so?

That was the Question's view; after all, he felt absolutely no connections to the JLA. While there was a level of responsbility to help them against Checkmate, because it was what the planet pleaded for him to do. The planet loved its heroes. Ted had also asked. Ted had needed his help, and without thought, he had given it.

But he felt no personal connections for the **Gods **that roamed the Earth.

Ted had been willing to die for THEM, though. The truth had nothing to do with it, he realized.

"Is it the truth that really drives you?"

The Question felt very ill as he continued to think, attempting to sort through his thoughts.

_I'm sure that if he was still here, he'd want you to stay safe, you know?_

"Not really," Question quietly admitted. "Not... for this."

Any other time, the truth had been the main force behind being a vigilante. This time... it was a level of something personal...

But not for the JLA.

_So you take care, all right?_

_And maybe you should wake up right about now._

"Then what is the truth about the Question?"

"Compromises. Finishing what was started... ...because he asked me to."

Shazam eyed at him, interested. He placed something in the Question's hand, closing the faceless man's fingers around it. "You'll be needing this."

It was then that there was inescapable darkness swallowing him up; it was as if he was falling into an endless pit. There were questions everywhere, eagerly biting and gnawing at his very being.

Without warning, he felt as though he was staring down a staircase, neverending. The sensation was like a dream, muffled, black and white.

Then, he was pushed down the stairs, every bone cracking as he fell; it was as if he was made of glass.

Every shatter, every break, every step.

He remembered _gazing into a gravestone. It was the day Dr. Rodor-_

He landed at the bottom_ step, step, step and approaching._

He stared up, into a faceless face.

_You might wanna wake up now._

The Question blinked a few times, blearily, up into a masked face. Not featureless as he thought he'd been originally looking into, but a familiar dark cowl with a typically twisted expression of some vague annoyance.

"About time, Vic."

The Human Enigma scowled. "...Batman."

"Managed to pull through by a hair, as always." Batman turned around, allowing himself to be distracted by the computer. "I wasn't aware you knew how to fly helicopters."

"I don't..." The Question would have liked to have risen to a sitting position; regardless to feeling faintly better, he was still weak. Turning his head, he **Saw **Ted.

_Dumb jerk. You really like to pull a close one, don't you?_

Question shrugged.

_Batman found you. Turns out you crashed right at Gotham Harbor. Been a few hours, but while you were unconscious, he came up with an anti-toxin for whatever you were injected with. You were mumbling a lot, though._

"...Hnn," the Question replied to him. He didn't want to elaborate.

While Batman had paused himself to work at the computer for a moment, it allowed Question some tired thought. He'd hallucinated. Maybe a fever dream. Either way, he had hated it; fake images never settled well with him. Reality was more important to him than anyone might have realized. He walked in two worlds, but they were very real worlds.

So perhaps the Question was a little less sane during the years. Fine.

But he wasn't delusional. That was a terrible insult.

"So when did you start flying helicopters?" Batman finally asked, seemingly done with whatever he'd been distracted with.

"...Just tonight... had to escape Keystone. Being chased."

"By the authorities?" Batman turned to place a hard stare onto the other vigilante.

The Question almost snorted. "They might think of themselves as such... high and righteous... In technicality, no, I wasn't..."

"Flash thinks you're telling the truth. How'd you convince him?"

"The question is... do you think I'm telling the truth?" Question turned his head to look at the Dark Knight.

Batman narrowed his eyes. "Plenty of strange things in the world. But I haven't been presented with solid enough proof that you're actually speaking with Ted."

"Ted told me how to fly the helicopter." Question left it as that, lifting his hand to rub his forehead. He finally realized that his mask had been stripped away from him, hopefully temporarily. Batman had already known his identity years ago, so he hadn't felt completely irritated with the removal of the pseudoderm; besides, his breathing probably needed to be checked while he'd been poisoned.

"Anything else?"

"Told me... nobody listened..." The Human Enigma gave an expresionless stare at Batman. "No one. Save for the Amazon and Michael..."

Batman seemed to consider this with a soft, "Hn." Stepping away from the screen, he told him, "Don't bother trying to leave, Vic." There was a pause, then he added, "Alfred will be down shortly." With that said, the Dark Knight disappeared into the shadows of the cave; Question didn't bother to attempt to **See **where specifically. He concentrated that **Sight **on Ted.

_Hey, don't look at me. Just get some sleep, you moron._

"Love the concern." Question closed his eyes.

Not before he felt something in his other hand that hadn't touched his face. Lifting it weakly, he peered tiredly.

Something very blue.

"...Huh," Question murmured.

Slipping the object into his pocket, he leaned his head back, spotting the butler descending from the staircase. It was odd, what contrast Alfred had in comparison to the man he served under; as he called out, it was quite a gentle, patient tone - whereas Batman always held something sharp and irritated in his own,

"Master Sage? Still awake, I hope?"

Weakly and silently, the Question waved his hand.

"Excellent. I do hope you enjoy shellfish and some tea, sir." Alfred set down a tray with a meal prepared for the vigilante, pouring the kettle. "How do you take your tea?"

"Milk's fine."

"Very good." The butler poured some milk, then stirred the tea faintly. "Are you able to sit on your own, sir?"

The Question responded the best way he could: he placed his hands firmly against the gurney he'd been laid upon, forcing himself up slowly to sit. He then turned himself so his legs were dangling off the edge, facing both Alfred and the dinner made for him.

"Most impressive, sir." Alfred smiled wryly at him.

The detective eyed at him wearily. "Think I'm delusional, too?" he muttered, able to hide the bitterness he wanted to place into his voice.

"Sir, it's my experience that men and women running in the streets in tights is hardly a normal and socialable production by most standards; I would be foolish to not admit a respect for someone who prefers a normal set of garments over capes and cowls. Also, I am hardly one who thinks that dismissing one's words these days would be wise, as could possibly be the case for the late Master Kord, I'm afraid." There was a soft frown creased on the older man's brow. "Does that answer your question, sir?"

"Mm."

"Very good, sir. Enjoy your meal." Alfred turned quietly and retreated back up the staircase.

_Isn't he awesome?_

"...Reminds me of someone I knew," Question admitted quietly. He took the tray onto his lap, and quietly began to eat.

_So now what do we do?_

"Not sure," he said between bites. "Tired. Can't move much." The Question sounded irritated at this.

However, _he_ seemed to have a different opinion. _It's a good chance for you to actually eat and get some sleep, Question. You're in the Batcave; I don't think you're anywhere safer at this point. Not even Max can get into Batman's computer and try to kill you._

"True." The Question considered his situation.

After all, there was a giant computer in the cave, and he had one of the best technicians with him to help him, but he couldn't possibly imagine getting his gloves on it yet. He was spending energy sitting up; it'd take much more effort to attempt to walk over to the console and key in commands.

Once he completed his meal, he laid himself back down onto his side where bones were not broken or where he'd been previously shot.

_Hey... um..._

"Yes?"

_Whenever we leave Gotham... could you check on Booster?_

The Question nodded. "I will."

There was reluctance on his part; Hub City's vigilante was not sure of it was a safe enough moment to get enough sleep. Admittedly, it was better than the Watchtower where Maxwell Lord had better access and capability of killing him, but frankly one had to be stupid to put complete faith in Batman. That was the Question's opinion anyway.

And his opinion of everyone had dropped a few days ago when _he _approached him.

It wasn't that he and Ted had ever been close in any form or way; they had worked together once or twice near the beginning of both their crimefighting days, but that really hadn't meant much. It was something else.

But it wasn't something he was willing to think too much on.

Eventually, the Question allowed himself to close his eyes and fall asleep for the first solid time in a few days.

* * *

Whenever one was deep in sleep, they were never aware of how long time passed. It could have been hours or minutes, between the time of falling asleep and waking up. The moment when the Question's shoulder was being shaken to awaken him, he lifted his head, feeling as though he had barely spent any time at all sleeping. Turning his head, he had once again found himself facing Alfred Pennyworth. 

"Master Sage, I am unaware of whether or not you're an early bird, but it is morning now. Perhaps you would prefer to freshen up, sir?"

The Question hesitated. "Don't need to," he muttered. "Have to keep moving."

_I'm sure if I still had a nose, I think I'd prefer you took a break and a bath, ya know._

He peered at _him_, then shook his head.

There was another round of reluctant agreeing from the Question; while it'd been almost a week with no hygiene involved, it was a matter of feeling uncomfortable in Wayne Manor. He was in Batman's home, and felt positive that if Max didn't find him first then Batman was simply going to keep him there.

Though it appeared Ted didn't see a bad side to this. If Question was kept from running for his life outside, then so be it.

Question didn't appreciate this notion all that much.

A shower and a breakfast provided by Alfred later, there'd been Batman who ordered him downstairs to the Batcave. The Question felt no inclination to provide cooperation, but _he _told him to go along with it; after all, Ted figured, maybe the Human Enigma would be safer this way, sticking with Batman.

It was in that case Question didn't mention that Batman had also ignored Ted not long before his death, however tempting.

Batman turned to him after he followed the Dark Knight to the cave. He pointed to the gurney where he'd been set up before; atop were a new set of clothes, fedora and all, with his pseudoderm mask. "Get yourself ready. We're leaving soon."

_Huh?_

Question glanced at Ted, shrugging at him. To Batman, he inquired, "Why?"

"There's a problem, and I'm taking you with me to make sure you don't try to look up things you're not supposed to." Batman turned around, which was his silent offer for the Question's privacy to change. "A few cities away, Booster Gold was hospitalized after Ted's home was destroyed, receiving burns all over his body. You know that, though. What you don't know is, early this morning, Booster disappeared from his room."

_Fuck, Booster-_

"Signs of escape, or signs of capture?" Question tilted his head, approaching after he had gotten dressed. New clothes were appreciated, after the scuffle. He pressed on his mask before letting out the bonding gas to seal the pseudoderm on.

"It could be either - but from what I know, he left on his own accord."

Question glanced to Ted. "Then he's safe. For now." It was more for _his _comfort than a plain statement in the Dark Knight's direction; however, it could have been taken as either one.

"For now," Batman repeated, halfway into a question.

The faceless man nodded. "Maxwell Lord. Killed Ted. Could go after Michael next. He wouldn't risk it."

"Hn." Batman didn't sound very convinced, which didn't surprise the Question. The Dark Knight's butler seemed more inclined to believe him than men dressing up as bats, fish, and bugs.

It was a bit comforting that one of the most sane men in existence trusted someone with questionable sanity. The Human Enigma had quickly developed respect for Alfred in that case.

"Get yourself ready. I'm getting the Batwing." Batman turned sharply, heading further into the cave.

Question watched him. "Where do you assume he went?"

"His apartment, to get his equipment. He'll probably go out looking for Beetle."

_God damn it, he's such an idiot. Smack Booster for me when you find him. I can't believe this._

The Question turned to Ted, shrugging. "Don't blame him. No one's informed him about you. Probably sick with worry. Lost almost everyone, hasn't he? Sister, that robot of his, Sue Dibny, now you."

_...This is so fucking reckless of him._

"He doesn't know any better. And he's in trouble." Question placed his hands into his pockets. "Whether or not he knows anything, I doubt Max is going to risk it. And we won't risk losing Michael."

_You'll look out for that moron, right?_

The faceless vigilante nodded silently.

In silent thought, his fingers curled around the object in his pocket.

The Question was unaware of its faint glow.

* * *

The time spent in the Batwing wasn't taken into any sort of account. The Question had been gazing out of the window, savoring his energy. While clearly Batman was skeptical of the faceless vigilante's accusing of Maxwell Lord being responsible for Ted's death, the Human Enigma was preparing himself for when Checkmate would no doubt be chasing down Booster Gold. Just as they had been trailing the Question to kill him, they too would follow Booster. 

It would have been inevitable; Booster knew that Blue Beetle had been on the trail of something, and that "something" had been Checkmate's files. While Ted had deleted them, there would still be some kind of link that would eventually bring Booster Gold to the same realization that Beetle had.

Checkmate knew this. Checkmate had to get rid of Booster Gold. The Question was positive that they would go after him.

_He'll be okay?_

Question nodded.

_Damn, I can't believe I've gotten both you and Booster dragged down into this..._

"Our choice," the faceless man murmured. Batman seemed to be ignoring him or just silently listening; Question didn't care about eithr.

_I asked you to, I got Booster into it and he was almost killed because of me. And you've been getting yourself nearly shot, pummeled by Superman, and poisoned. It's ridiculous - I shouldn't have..._

"Wanted to. You asked, I agreed. Have to show the truth."

_Why'd you agree to help me, anyway...? You knew how much trouble it was gonna be, didn't you?_

"I knew. Wanted to be involved."

_But why did you agree?_

Question lifted his head, tilting it. "Because you asked me to."

It left _him _in silence.

"If you're done talking." Batman didn't bother glancing back towards the faceless man.

"Depends if Ted has anything else to say."

Batman made no remark. "We're nearing Booster's apartment."

The Question peered out of the window, watching.

_Top floor, northeast end_.

"I see it," Question murmured.

It had only been seconds ofobserving -until the apartment that he was looking at had burst into a fiery explosion.

**

* * *

Notes:**

I don't feel as confident in this chapter as I did the others. Maybe because it feels quick, yet somehow slowing the pace down. Regardless... I'm hoping it'll establish important points into the story, what will effect later.

I can assure, though, that the next chapter is going to be quite... special. Yes, special is the word I'm looking for.

**To the audience:**

**hellion**: At first, the Question had been a mild interest for me. I had originally adored the Flash - then, upon viewing Justice League Unlimited, Question's personality got me interested. So I bought a lot of comics, researched the character like mad, and he's completely overwhelmed me. He's a crazy and very interesting guy - and very fun to write. So I'm glad even someone who isn't a fan of his can enjoy this story. It's about him, and it's about Ted and is gradually pulling Booster into the story, as well. Quite fun.

**bri's the man:** Glad you do! And I hope you still feel the same, even with this chapter that I'm not so terribly fond of.


	5. Lightning Bugs Begin to Spark

**Disclaimers and Useless/Useful Stuff to Know:**

Don't own any of these characters. Never will. Wish I did. Major spoilers for "Countdown to Infinite Crisis". Good idea to read the comic first. Also, spoilers for the Question six-issue miniseries.

**

* * *

Warning: The Pool is Contaminated**

by Alba Aulbath

* * *

And so it had been, Booster Gold's apartment had just gone into a fiery explosion. 

_Oh God... BOOSTER!_

"Hold on," Question told _him_. "Just hold on."

Batman had remained eerily silent, lowering the Batwing towards the remains that were still engulfed in flames.

The faceless man peered, **Seeing **into the apartment. **Seeing **the fire's energy, but furthermore... **Seeing **a lone man leap-

"He's fine," Question muttered.

There was a crash through a window that somehow hadn't already burst from the explosion, and Booster Gold - completely dressed in his gear - soared out of the apartment, flying below and past the Batwing. Turning his head down, the Question could **See **five men with jetpacks following him, attempting to close in on Booster Gold.

The Human Enigma undid the seatbelt that kept him strapped inside of the Batwing. Leaning forward, he grabbed the back of Batman's seat, speaking sharply, "Turn, follow Michael. Then open the hatch."

Batman grunted, as if he didn't need directions; he was already turning to follow Booster Gold. "What do you plan on doing, Vic?"

"Open the fucking hatch or I'll tear your very spirit out of your body."

_Christ, don't threaten him! ...Can you DO that?_

"There are people following him. Have to take care of them. Max. Max knows." Question turned his head, muttering, "Protect Michael. Have to."

Batman seemed to be considering his options. Finally, the Dark Knight growled, "I'm coming for you after you're finished. You're not off the hook, Vic."

"Mm-hmm." The Question sounded completely disinterested.

The Batwing followed the men, up to the point where Booster was settling down on a rooftop. The hatch to the jet opened; swiftly, the Question leapt out, falling with his feet first towards the fivesome that were slowing themselves to confront Booster Gold. The faceless vigilante landed onto the shoulders on one of the men, causing him to crash and immediately go unconscious after a rough landing on the pavement. Standing up, the Question turned quickly, his foot connecting with the edge of another man's neck, knocking him over.

Seeing that two of the five men had been dealt with quickly, the third lifted up his gun, preparing to fire at the Question. Ducking down, the Human Enigma grabbed onto the fourth man's waist, lifting him up and causing him to take shots for him. Tossing the body towards the man firing at him, Question turned to deal with the fifth member. However, the final man was shot down with a gold colored beam.

Immediately, Booster Gold approached, looking paler than normal and tired. "You again...? What the hell is going on?"

_Jeez, he looks bad..._

"Nothing good," the Question responded. "Not much time to explain. Maxwell Lord. He's after you and me. Need to run."

"Okay, WHAT?"

The Question held up his index finger. "Shut up. Pick me up. Fly low in the alleyways to keep out of sight so we can escape. Then I'll explain."

The fact that his life had been potentially saved by the faceless man, Booster Gold was quick to agree. He reached out and snagged the Question by the arm, taking off into the air and diving down to hover low into the alleyways as instructed.

Looking over his shoulder, the Question saw that more men were following them. Behind his mask, he narrowed his eyes, concentrating. Using **Sight **was one thing, but using his chi to attack in his state would make him weary fast. Still, it was worth a risk. Throwing his chi out, he attacked one of the men, enough that it caused him to spin out of control and slam against the others chasing Booster and himself.

It was enough, fortunately, that Booster Gold began to slow down, hovering between a skyscraper and an apartment building. Looking around, he said, "I don't see anyone else coming after us."

The Question lifted his head, **Seeing **around. No Checkmate, and the Batwing was lagging behind. Then he nodded. Enough time to explain before Batman would arrive. "We're fine."

Booster flew up towards the apartment building, settling onto the roof. Putting the Question onto his feet, the blonde placed his hands onto his knees and started to pant. "Okay then... start... talkin'..."

"First." Question peeled off his leather gloves, placing them into his pockets. "Hurting?"

"No duh... still have burns... from the explosion at... Ted's..." Booster tried to catch his breath.

_Can you do anything...?_

The Question nodded to _him_. "Hold still, Michael." Remaining silent, the faceless man rubbed his bare hands together. It appeared as though nothing was happening as he was performing this, which caused Booster to give him a look. Reaching out, the Question placed his hands onto the blonde's shoulders.

One moment was all it took, and Booster suddenly pulled sharply away; he had felt the rush of... something through him. "What the hell-?"

_What WAS that?_

"Reiki." Question pulled on his gloves. "A healing form of energy under the martial arts. The flow of chi of one body to the other, to aid in recovery. Tell me, do you feel anymore pain in your chest?"

Booster paused, then realized. "No."

"Good. The burns aren't gone. Hardly. But they'll heal a little quicker. With the pain reduced, you should be fine now. Until you push yourself unnecessarily again."

_You're one to talk._

Question ignored _him_. "You want to know what's going on. I will be blatant, Michael. Men are trying to kill you. Men who follow Maxwell Lord's orders. All connected. Part of Checkmate."

"Okay. One step back - why's Max trying to kill me?"

"Because you attempted to help in Ted's investigation. You know there's something wrong. Only you and the Amazon listened to Ted. I also know about Checkmate, which is why they want to get rid of me. Whatever we have begun, Checkmate intends to attempt to finish it their way, while keeping the JLA and the rest of the unworthy **Gods **blinded... until they've been obliterated." The Question tilted his head. "Ted is the one who brought me to understanding of what's going on. You listened to him. Will you listen now?"

Booster Gold placed his hand to his head. "Max is... but Max is a sleezey business salesman. He's not evil, but he's not a great guy, either."

"Do you know why Ted is missing? Why he hasn't gone to see you?"

"No." Booster paused. "You know where he is?"

The Question nodded. "Everyone in the JLA knows. They've been fearful of telling you, and not for your own safety - but because they could be considered partially responsible-"

"Where the hell is he?"

"Gone. ...No, that's not accurate." The Question looked at _him_, who was incapable of watching. "Maxwell Lord killed him. His body is in the Watchtower."

Booster was silent.

_I'm sorry, I'm so damned sorry-_

"He died doing the right thing," Question murmured quietly. "But he died, with the Gods the people praise being blinded, refusing to see. Refusing to listen. Don't make the same mistake, Michael."

"He's..." Booster grabbed onto the sleeves of the Question's jacket. "He's gone...?" His voice was breaking, barely capable of speaking. "He's gone, and..." The blonde lowered his head, trembling.

_Booster..._

"I..." The Question was troubled, glancing around before focusing on _him_. He wasn't sure what to do with Booster holding onto him, as if physical comfort was well beyond him - which might have been so.

_Don't look at me! Help him! You HELP HIM._

The faceless man was at a loss of words or action. With a hand raised in uncertainty, he placed it on the back of Booster's head. This was, somehow, a turn out he didn't expect. His own reaction had been one that was familiar.

Anger. Frustration.

Did he grieve? Maybe, his own way, he did. However, from what he had known, Booster had been losing basically everyone one at a time. It'd been inevitable.

Lifting his head, the Question saw the Batwing land on the roof next to them, the Dark Knight himself leaping out immediately. There wasn't a single word exchange between anyone; Booster Gold had let go of the faceless man and turned sharply, approaching Batman silently.

Much to Question's surprise, Booster landed a fist across Batman's face.

"You didn't LISTEN him! You-!"

_Question, stop him! He...!_

The faceless vigilante approached immediately, placing a hand lightly to Booster's shoulder. "Someone else you can blame," he told him quietly.

Booster Gold turned his head sharply, frowning behind his goggles. "But he-!"

"Is letting you hit him," Question told him. "Someone else we have to go after, Booster. It's not Batman."

"I...! ...Yeah... yeah, all right..." Booster was seething, teetering between rage and grief. Wordlessly, he stepped away from the Dark Knight.

"Hn." Batman brushed himself off. "What did you tell him, Question?"

"What he should know. The only one with ears, the only one who will listen. Maxwell Lord. Ted. Checkmate. The **Gods**. Not everything in detail yet, but that doesn't really matter to you, does it?" Question tilted his head to the side. "Can't go back with you, Batman. Michael needs me now. Unless you want to drag us both back to your cave against our wills. I'm sure Superman would be thrilled to hear about you not taking Michael to a doctor after all of this."

"Hell - I'm not going anywhere with Batman." Booster shook his head. "I'm done with the JLA and everyone else."

Batman turned sharply. "Michael-"

"No way. Ted was onto something, and you guys just...!" Booster's hands clenched. "I'm SICK of it. My sister, Sue, Skeets, Tora, now Ted? Forget it, Batman!"

"You can't force him. And you certainly can't force me, Batman." The Question peered at the Dark Knight. "Don't know exactly yet what you have against the JLA. What made you ignore what was said. But you'd best consider the results of your actions and the cause of Ted's death. In spite of what you think of me, there's a point. Maxwell Lord, who kept tabs on the JLA for so many years. Who would know your weaknesses. Would know who you all are, your contacts, your families - dead or alive. Whoever they are. Don't ignore it... or the Knight is off the board." The faceless vigilante turned around stepping away from Batman.

There was some silence between Booster Gold and Gotham's protector. The Dark Knight spoke first, "You're going to follow him, aren't you."

"He knows what happened, and what Ted was working on. Of course I'm gonna," Booster muttered.

"He's hardly the most stable-"

"Yeah, well, none of us are! And I don't hafta hear that from YOU."

Batman narrowed his eyes. "Do you believe him?"

"Better him than you, Batman." Booster Gold turned around and followed the Question.

With a small grunt, the Dark Knight returned to the Batwing. Whatever Batman's remaining opinions were, he did not voice them or express them beyond mild annoyance.

There was a pause of silence between both the faceless man and the blonde, even as the Batwing flew overhead. Finally, Booster Gold let out a sigh, mixed with a little bit of every emotion he could manage to express in one breath. He crouched down, leaning over and draping his arms over his knees. The Question turned his head to look down at him.

"I don't think I ever said anything like that to Batman, ever," Booster muttered.

_Yeah, well, someone had to._

"Ted's probably pleased," the Question remarked a bit wryly.

Booster lifted his head to look at the faceless man. "Did you know he was dead, even when you swung by at the hospital?"

This caused the Human Enigma to hesitate briefly before admitting, "Yes."

"Why didn't anyone TELL me?"

"For me, complicated. Too complicated. Would sound crazy to you." Question shrugged.

"Look, right now? Nothing's more crazy than hearing that Max was responsible for what happened to Ted. Whatever's happening now."

The Question placed his hands into his pockets. "...I can **See **things, no one else can. **Hear**. I walk between two worlds, with the art of feng shui. Can **See **chi, use it. Can **See **people, who died. **See **the chi of people, aliens, metahumans, mutants - whatever lives. Ted... came to me, hours after he died. Told me what happened. Had to get involved. He talked to me, about everything. So it began with seeing you, to contact the JLA and, bit by bit, find where Ted's body was."

"Okay, so... you can talk to dead people?"

_Yeah, I know. Sounds crazy..._

"In a way. Depends, really, if they're damned to stay or demand to stay. Ted wants to."

Booster considered this. By the look on his face, it sounded strange, but he still asked, "So... that doesn't really answer my question. How come you didn't tell me?"

The Question paused, then admittedly in a low, quiet tone, "When I was looking for his body, maybe I was hoping I really was just delusional and he wasn't dead. Maybe I was just hearing voices. Maybe I was just seeing things. Maybe I really was what everyone thinks... but I was right. And Ted was right."

_I..._

Another moment of silence was lingering, before Booster announced, "Okay, so that does sound pretty nuts, but right now I'm still accepting that... jeez, Max. Are you sure?"

"Not joking. Not joking at all." The faceless man's tone darkened and twisted into a form of anger that neither _he _or Booster were familiar with. "Maxwell Lord. I could **See **it, when I found him. I could **See**, what happened to him. In the complex where he was..." The Question turned around, placing his fingers onto the brim of his fedora. "Could **See **it," he muttered, furious.

"So we gotta find Max."

Question turned his head to look at Booster Gold. "Not right now. No. He'll be damned soon, but not now. You're still recovering... and so am I. For now, we live. Then we'll find Max."

"We just LEAVE him alone now, then?" The blonde stood up, frowning.

"Don't like it, either. But he'll follow us. He'll follow, and we'll deal with him then." The Question pointed down to the street. "Fly us down to that caravan. Get in the back, sleep. I'll drive."

_YOU? Drive?_

"I'm not tired," Booster grumbled.

"You will be. Take us down."

Booster Gold grabbed onto the Question by the upper arm, taking off from the roof and hovering down towards the indicated caravan. "How do you plan on opening it, anyway? Do you picklock, or-"

A loud CRASH of the window being broken with the Question's elbow answered his inquiry. As the car alarm went off, the Question reached inside and undid the locks on the doors. "Into the back," he told the blonde, going around to the driver's side.

"Can you hotwire?" Booster wondered, stepping into the caravan.

"No."

"Then how the hell are you going to drive this thing?"

Slamming the door shut, the Question took out a black object from his pocket. Flipping it open, it appeared to be a batarang. He stabbed it into the ignition, then turned the batarang as it acted as a carkey, effectively turning off the car alarm. The Question backed the caravan out, then took it down the street.

"Okay, that answers that," Booster muttered.

"Mm-hmm."

"So..." The blonde hesitated. "You really talk to...?"

"Yes."

"How can you prove it?"

Question tilted his head. "Besides everything that led up to this point? ... Ted told me about the time Batman discovered upon Guy Gardner's infamous glass jaw."

_Man, Black Canary was PISSED._

Which would be something difficult for the Question to come upon; JLA information, even as stupid as such, wasn't very broad.

"I guess it's good enough to me. With everything else in the world, guess it'd be hard not to believe," Booster Gold pointed out.

The Question only nodded in response to Booster's words before telling him, "Shut up and sleep."

"Uh-huh. Thanks. Good night to you, too," he grumbled, laying himself down slowly in the back.

It only took about five minutes for Booster to fall asleep.

_You'd probably be better off with Batman, both of you._

"Not really." The Question shook his head. "...Booster wouldn't have wanted to go. I don't. Not any of them. No **Gods**. No more **Gods**..."

_Batman of all people-_

"Thinks he's one. Looking, knowing. Knowing all of us. No surprise Max had files. No surprise at all. Our lives, weaknesses. Kept tabs, both of them. Both of them... Think of themselves as **Gods**..."

_Look, I... I know he didn't listen to what I had to say. Not many of 'em did. But..._

"Don't tell me you don't blame them, even a little, Ted. Even a little. They had no faith. No trust. Not in you. The **Gods **feel guilt for not listening - which is why they didn't want to face Michael. Why they won't listen to me." Question glared faintly at him. "Not ... just because I'm a little..."

_Crazy? You admit it?_

"Hn." Question lowered his head. "Different. Just different. Not delusional..."

_Okay, we've established that. Look, seriously... I'm angry at them. A little._

"A little."

_Yeah. ... A lot... I hate it. They didn't believe me. They didn't... respect me enough to think I was onto something or telling the truth..._

The Question nodded, seemingly in satisfaction. "No problems with being upset, Ted."

_Yeah, with you saying that? Not too comforting._

"Hm."

_...Hey. ... Thanks for taking care of Booster._

The faceless man stayed silent to that, simply adding in second nod.

* * *

Around the time Booster Gold had woken up, he had no idea how long he'd been asleep or where they had stopped. It was around dawn, the sun crawling its way out of the horizon. Though he still have severe burns, Booster found that sitting up hadn't hurt as badly as it had the day before. Whatever the Question had done to help him, it certainly performed its task well. 

Somewhere along the line, they had stopped. To where, Booster Gold wasn't sure, but it looked as though they were parked around the outskirts of a city that was quite gloomy. Peering into the front seat, he could see that the Question was sitting up against it, remaining still save for his steady breathing. He could have been sleeping, but there was no way for Booster to tell. It wasn't as if the faceless man had any eyes or anything.

"Question?"

The Human Enigma didn't not stirr. Not immediately. Seconds after Booster Gold spoke to him, he leaned forward and turned his head around to look at him, assumingly. "Any pain?"

"Not much. I still really don't get what you did, but it worked."

"Too long to explain anyway." Question shrugged. He pointed to the outskirts they were at. "Edge City. Didn't think Max would figure we'd go here. Not yet. Only a matter of time."

"Well, if we have time, can we get some breakfast or something?"

_Some people can skip a few days without food because they're a little nutty, Question. Feed the poor guy; he's been in a hospital for DAYS._

The faceless man grunted at _him_. "Fine. Costume off. Don't want to be tracked down."

"Yeah, excuse me. I'm pretty sure all of my clothes is burnt to a crisp now."

The Question took off his jacket, throwing it to Booster Gold. "What size feet?"

"Ten."

Turning his head, the Question looked down to the passenger side of the vehicle. "Hnn, these won't fit you..." he mumbled to himself. Eventually, both socks and shoes were tossed to Booster.

"**Pff**!" Booster pulled a sock out of his hair. "Thanks," he grumbled.

"Close the jacket, put on the shoes. Take off your mask and goggles, put them in your coat. It'll do." The Question had, apparently, discovered a pair of sandals in the caravan, and was currently strapping them on. Reaching up, the Human Enigma peeled off the mask that had normally kept him so faceless. Quietly, he stuffed the mask away into a pocket before yanking out the batarang from the ignition.

Booster Gold stepped out from the vehicle, then turned to finally meet with the face he'd gotten used to being no-faced.

"Holy crap, you're that... uh... Vic Sage, right?"

The Question narrowed his tired eyes. "...You're wrong about that." He turned away and motioned Booster to follow him. "Down here. I See people. A diner, maybe. Eat, then we'll go."

"Why can't we take the van?"

"Out of gas."

"Figures," Booster grumbled.

Question led the way down the road, remaining silent. It didn't keep _him _from speaking.

_What do you mean you're not Vic Sage?_

The Human Enigma shook his head, muttering, "Too many names. None of them right. Not anyone. Just a question. Who am I? Don't know. Don't know, doesn't **matter**."

"Who're you talking to?" Booster stared at him.

"Not you. Him. _Him_. Ted."

"O-oh." The blonde looked immediately uncomfortable, unsure how to respond.

Question turned his head, frowning at Booster. "...Not comfortable?"

"Well it's... y'know, weird. I haven't really thought about it much until you started actually talking to him. ...And I'll never be able to talk to him again."

_Jeez, Booster..._

This caused the Question to pause, then turn to face Booster Gold. "...Let it comfort you that he's not really gone, then. He cares about you, Michael. And..."

"And...?"

"...Thank you for being a good friend to him." Quickly, the Question continued his way down the road.

It made both _him _and Booster pause.

_Now WAIT a second! You can't just leave us hanging like that!_

"Hey! C'mon - anything else?" Booster Gold hurried to keep up with him.

The Question felt better to keep silent to both of them.

* * *

The pair had gradually approached the diner, which had been fabulously titled "Diner". Nothing was particularly original about it, not even in design. Basic black and white tiled floor, waxed to the point of showing incredible reflection. Basic waitress in a pink uniform with an atrocious hairstyle. All in all, it was simple, but essential. 

While Booster Gold had gotten himself a basic breakfast, pancakes and all. However, he had stared at the Question, who had ordered - for all reasons beyond him - cheesecake with hot fudge.

The red-haired man was prepared to take a bite, but he saw the blonde staring. "What?"

"How could... I mean... at THIS hour?"

"Haven't induldged in awhile, Michael. Eaten much of anything lately." The Question took a bite quietly. "Shut up and eat."

"You're real great company," Booster muttered, picking at a pancake.

"Mm-hmm. Eat."

_Oh yeah. Another thing that sucks about being dead: can't ever have cheesecake again. Man..._

With an annoyed sigh, the blonde paid better attention to breakfast than what his current companion was ingesting. While it was hardly a normal breakfast at all for someone more average than the Human Enigma, maybe it was normal for someone like the Question. Hell if he knew.

In silence, the pair continued to eat.

There was a sudden explosion that rocked the diner, one that seemed to take place in the kitchen. However, not missing a beat, the Question was still eating his cheesecake.

"Didn't you HEAR that? Or feel it?" Booster Gold demanded.

"Almost done," Question muttered. "Finish yours."

_I have no idea if you're crazy, stupid, or just insanely calm._

"How can you-"

"Never know when it's my last meal," Question spoke truthfully. After a final bite and a sip of his coffee, another explosion caused the diner to tremble, to the point in which part of it started to crumble while civillians panicked. The Human Enigma lifted his head, frowning. "...Hm."

"'Hm'? What's 'hm' mean?"

"Means we've been followed." The Question stood up, lifting up the chair he'd been sitting in and throwing it against a window, shattering it. "Out, everyone!"

Quickly, the customers and staff alike hurried to the window, rushing out just as another explosion started to cause the diner to collapse. Booster grumbled, switching his forcefield on to prevent any damage coming to him or the Question.

_Was it Max?_

"Or someone hired by him. Part of Checkmate. We need to go," the Question told _him_.

"Go WHERE?"

"Wherever we can in Edge City. Get your things on." The Question went into his pocket, pressing his mask against his face. "We're on the run again," he muttered, pressing his beltbuckle; yellow gas leaked out, surrounded the man, rendering him faceless once more. Turning, he looked around, in case he would **See **someone out of place.

But no one that he could **See **that was familiar or could have been suspicious. Any of the customers could have been responsible.

Looking up, the Question **Saw **a helicopter go by. Already, he was positive it had to be Checkmate.

Eventually, his trenchcoat had been tossed back to him after Booster Gold had set on both his mask and goggles again after kicking off the footwear that had been given to him. "You want your shoes?"

"Hardly a time for that." The Question shrugged on his coat, then motioned for him. "We have to go. Fly us."

Taking down the forcefield, Booster nodded. "Yeah, all right. We gonna run into Max?" He grabbed onto the Question's arm, taking off.

"Who knows?" Question murmured.

"Here's hoping - I could really use something to smash."

* * *

The duo had flown deep into the city; the Question had become full aware that they were being followed, likely by Checkmate. He could **See **them, **Hear **them, and knew they would continue to pursue them. It was getting close. 

The faceless man was unsure if escape was much of an option. Any movement they took, they would be tracked down. Though admittedly, a stolen vehicle possibly alerted Checkmate to their location... in which case, hadn't been the Question's best idea, now that he considered it. Booster had definitely alerted them to his location, to where they would go.

It didn't matter anymore, of course, the causes.

Question felt something flutter in his pocket.

Reaching into it, he pulled out the azure scarab, staring at it. It was glowing intently, the wings seemingly fluttering.

_When the HELL did you get that?_

"Shazam gave it to me," Question muttered. "...Dunno how to describe it..."

_I thought for sure that... Do you KNOW what that is?_

"Sort of."

Booster Gold glanced down, once he heard Question talking. "What the-? The scarab? Where'd you get that?"

"Good question. Keep flying."

_It's active, but... when were you going to tell me you had this?_

"Don't know," the Question muttered. "Don't know. Didn't know what I was gonna do with it. Just know the original Blue Beetle had it. Dan Garret. I..."

The blue scarab had lifted out of his hand, alarming the faceless man. The no-faced vigilante quickly reached for it, but it dodged out of the way of his grasp. Cursing sharply, the Question tried to reach for it, but it escaped from his fingers.

Booster Gold paused his flight, noticing the blue scarab flying around his head before sharply moving away.

_He _was drawn to it.

"Ted...?" The Question could **See **him watching it.

_...I can't explain it... I just..._

_He_ turned to look at them.

_I have to go._

The azure scarab disappeared in a bout of lightning, and _he _faded away with it.

"TED!"

"What happened?" Booster didn't understand, and it didn't help that the Question was writhing in his grip. "Hold STILL! I can barely hold onto you!"

The faceless man flailed out his free arm, as if there was some way to grasp onto what had already disappeared. "Ted! TED!"

"Stop MOVING!"

"Still there, still there- COME **BACK**!" The Question was unable to move his other arm as Booster grabbed onto it, calling out in an off-beat tone, sounding desperate. "Celebrate life! COME BACK!"

A gunshot rang out in the area, and Booster Gold cursed as he took a quick dive, letting go of one of Question's arms to hold onto his shoulder. "Stop having a fit - really really bad timing for it, Question!"

The faceless man tilted his head up, noticing the blonde's injury. Panic - he felt panic. Where did _he _go? Where did _he _go?

Not important at the moment. He had to focus, focus, focus and **See **them.

"Land us. And leave me," the Question told him quietly.

"Are you kidding? I can't..."

"You're injured. Do it. I can mask you long enough to hide you."

Booster Gold gradually lowered himself towards a rooftop, then turned to frown at him. "I can't leave you here. I mean... who else can I...?"

The Question shook his head, his voice shaking. "It looks bad. ... Awful. Surrounded. One of us needs to leave. You. You need to. You. Stop Checkmate. Undo the blind, undo the deaf. Undo the **Gods**, make them mortal..."

"You're making even less sense than usual!"

Quickly moving, the faceless man stood in front of Booster as another gunshot was made; the Question took the bullet into the scapula, in which he nearly fell. Hissing and grasping onto his shoulder, he stared his faceless face to Booster Gold.

"Leave. Live. Fight... do it, Michael. Finish what Ted started... and I'll do my part. Do my part... gone now..." The Question lowered his head. "Gone, gone... life, death, gone, celebrate life..."

"Question... I can't... what do I DO?"

"Leave! NOW!" The Question shoved him towards the edge of the rooftop. "Leave. I'll mask you. Go!"

Booster stumbled, staring at him. He scowled, biting his lip, then pushed off of the pavement, taking off into the air.

Concentrating quietly, his back to the men approaching him, the Question concentrated on his own chi, reaching out and sealing Booster Gold temporarily, from sight and Sight but his own. He would be safe, until they picked up on his trail again. He would be all right, until... until then.

"Gone gone... celebrate life..." Question turned around, holding open his arms. "Gone, gone. Death, and life. Ted... Ted, I can't **Hear **you. I can't **See **you. I'm your eyes and ears - or am I blind and deaf? Do I descend to **God**? Talk to me..."

"You haven't gotten very far."

Maxwell Lord approached, guards standing aside as he stepped towards the Question.

The faceless man shook, but not because of Max before him. Muttering to himself, the vigilante held his head. "Celebrate life. Celebrate life with me. I don't know how. Teach me. Teach me... talk to me... Ted..."

"Are those your final words?"

Question lifted his head. "Death and life... take death... and my life... by my choice. Not yours..." He stepped back towards the edge. "I'm ready... I'm ready... I'll celebrate now."

Leaning back, the Question began to plummet towards the streets below.

* * *

In the Watchtower, J'onn J'onzz had been monitoring, all the galaxy and all of the planet they were meant to protect. He wondered, at times, how things faired below. 

But at the moment, he had thought back to Blue Beetle.

What had they ignored? Was the faceless man right?

J'onn approached the room they kept the body in.

However, he found the body standing.

"I want some cheesecake," Blue Beetle muttered.

**

* * *

Notes:**

Reiki is a real form of healing arts from Asia. Sort of. The same principle is here, and I presume that the Question is capable of it...

By the way, I hope you guys love cliffhangers. BWA HA.

Keep reviewing!


	6. Ra's Planned Rebirth

**Disclaimers and Useless/Useful Stuff to Know:  
**Don't own any of these characters. Never will. Wish I did. Major spoilers for "Countdown to Infinite Crisis". Good idea to read the comic first. Also, spoilers for the Question six-issue miniseries.

**

* * *

Warning: The Pool is Contaminated**

by Alba Aulbath

* * *

There was no way to ever possibly describe the feelings that came through when _he _was following the scarab. It led _him _away, and _he _couldn't even tell precisely where they were going. 

And for the first time in days - maybe a week or so - _he _laid himself down as **He **instructed.

A shock of life came to _him_, as the scarab clung onto _his _chest, waves of lightning coming through _him_.

The azure scarab disappeared in the shocks running through his body, and slowly, he sat up.

He was solid. He was breathing.

Feeling frantically on the top of his head, he found a roughly sewn mask there, the patchwork done by the Question from days earlier. Tearing it off, he ran his gloved fingers through his hair, feeling no traces of what Max had done to him. Touching his arm - it had been broken before he died - it was fine. Everything that had been wrong was fixed.

Standing up, he didn't notice the Martian Manhunter standing in the doorway.

He was a living, breathing man.

He wanted one thing.

"I want some cheesecake," Blue Beetle muttered.

* * *

Time slowed, time had no meaning when one was approaching the end, the very end he chose. His spirit would not be damned, he would pass on to whatever was beyond. He tried to listen. He tried to **Hear**, tried to **See **for _him_, and _he _was gone. 

Forever? Let it not be forever.

"In six true words," he told himself as he fell.

Falling, falling, falling.

Six True Words fell then, too. It hadn't been her choice. This had been his choice.

He would die by his own rules, not by Max's.

Was he gone forever?

In Six True Words.

_**He'd want you to celebrate life.**_

"Let's celebrate," he whispered.

And fell.

And fell.

Fell.

_Step, step, step, and was approaching..._

_It had been the day Dr. Rodor - sweet, old Tot, rest in peace, in peace, peace..._

_Flowers had been offered by him._

_"He'd want you to celebrate life."_

_No one ever smiled at him quite like that._

In six true words.

_**Will you please help me, Question?**_

In six true words, yes yes and yes again, he could not deny _him_. Only _he _spoke Six True Words.

"Speak to me..."

He could see what happened to _him_, could **See **it if he tried-

_**"Go to hell, Max."**_

A shot and death and pain and-

"I can **See**..."

In true words, he fell.

Because it was his choice.

* * *

"Beetle?" 

Glancing over his shoulder, Ted saw J'onn. Blinking, feeling strange - dead for awhile, and suddenly back to life? Sure, plenty of costumed people did it, but Ted never imagined he would have. It was abnormal. It wasn't something he enjoyed.

But he tried not to think about it.

Instead, there'd been Booster and Question to worry about; they were being chased, they needed his help...

"Beetle."

"Yeah, I heard you. Now, 'scuse me." Ted hadn't thought much of it, but he had lifted a few inches off of the floor, moving towards the door.

J'onn hadn't moved. "What has happened?"

"The hell you care?" Ted had admitted to Question he was bitter. Only now that he was alive again, able to actually speak with the Martian Manhunter, did he feel any kind of anger. It was easier to swallow up when he was dead. "I have somewhere to go. And yeah, 'I will be leaving', thank you SO much, J'onn."

Quietly, the Martian stepped aside. "What is happening with Michael and Vic?"

"They're in trouble - which, by the way, could have been avoided DAYS ago - and I'm gonna go help." Not another word by Blue Beetle, and he left, finding with some strange ease and grace to fly.

It finally came of notice to him as he landed in the teleporting pod, groaning to himself, "Oh jeez, I've been infected with magic. That's just PEACHY."

With a sigh, Ted keyed in the coordinates where he had last seen Booster Gold and the Question.

Appearing in midair, Ted wobbled a bit while he hovered. It was a bit difficult, but he was surprised that he could stay there with relative ease - considering his lack of experience using any kind of magic.

While he didn't favor it, if it would help him, he might as well get used to it.

Looking around, Ted searched the area from the point he was at for, hopefully, a clue as to where they were-

It was then he saw someone fall back from a building, making a fast plummet towards the streets below.

Someone who had lost a fedora along the way, wearing a trenchcoat, and had no face.

"Can you stay out of the 'almost dead' zone for ONE DAY?" Beetle grumbled.

At least, this would be a good test for his flight speed, he fathomed. Taking in a deep breath, he held out his hands as he took a dive down at an angle, flying down in hopes of reaching him in time. It made him belatedly wonder where Booster had gone - and in dread, hoped for the best. Surely, Booster was fine.

Reaching out as he advanced closer and closer, Ted grumbled, "So owing me dinner, so owing me dinner, SO OWING ME DINNER-"

Gloved fingers grabbed onto the front of the faceless man's coat, lifting him up with surprising ease. It was funny; Ted was positive he hadn't been capable of that much strength before...

But it made him recall what Doc Garret had been able to do before him.

Lifting the Question up into his arms, Ted took off into the air, landing roughly onto another tower. "Question? Hey! I can't tell if you're awake!"

The faceless vigilante lifted his head, no-faced face staring at Blue Beetle. "...You're alive... you live after all.. am I really delusional?"

"You really want me to answer that?" Ted raised a brow at him. "Where's Booster?"

"Michael... made him go... hid him away... gone, gone - you're alive..." The Question was trembling.

"Yeah, we'll skip around in flowers about it later. We have to find Booster."

The Human Enigma grabbed onto Ted's shoulder before he could move. "Let me **See**... let me **See **and **Hear**..."

Ted frowned, but nodded. The way the Question was talking was a little less sane than usual, and he didn't really understand why. What happened in the amount of time he disappeared?

"Where I... backed off. Michael... and Max."

"Max!" Ted narrowed his eyes. "You're bleeding, but... think you can tag along?"

"Yes," Question muttered. "Yes, yes... don't disappear..."

"Hopefully, not this time."

Blue Beetle took off, carrying the faceless man with him.

* * *

Gazing over the edge of the building, Maxwell Lord scowled. The Question took a plummet on his own. Fair enough, but there was more security in being the actual cause of death than seeing suicide. In the world of metahumans, death was difficult to stay. 

It was to his surprise that yellow beams were fired at him at both of his flanks, quickly disposing of the soldiers that were behind him.

Max lifted his head to see what was happening, just in time to receive a fist in the face.

"You really **did **do it!" Booster Gold snarled, landing another vicious blow against Max's face. "Didn't you? You killed Ted!"

Blood dribbled down his chin from a split lip, but Max still eyed at him with confidence. "I offered to let him do the right thing - but he didn't want to, Booster."

"Question was telling the truth. You did this, and you're trying to kill us, too!" Booster threw him against the paved roof, holding up a powered hand, golden light charging. "I'm so damned sick of this. You guys took apart Skeets, you killed Ted, you...! I'm **tired **of LOSING PEOPLE!"

Max eyed up at him, some desperation in his expression as his nose began to bleed. "**You don't want to shoot me, Booster**."

The blonde struggled with himself against the mental influence, but the golden light disappeared from his hand. It didn't stop him from landing another strike against Max's jaw, lifting another fist to slam against him. There was every intention of nonstop blows.

"Maybe I don't!" Booster snarled. "Maybe I don't - maybe I want to **crush you**, Max!"

A foot slammed down against Maxwell Lord's ribcage, and Booster reached down, curling his fingers around the other man's throat.

"BOOSTER!"

The blonde lifted up his head sharply, spotting the last person he expected to be flying down in front of him.

"Ted..." Booster's throat went dry, and he stepped away from Max. "You... aren't you-"

"I got better," Blue Beetle said weakly. "Don't kill him, Booster." He attempted to set the Question down onto his feet, but the faceless man wavered; instead, Ted held him by the arm to support him.

"You're kidding me. You're fucking kidding me. He KILLED you."

Question muttered, "Death... life... celebrate life... damn him, damn the spirit of the sinned, damn him... celebrate his death..."

"You're not helping," Ted grumbled.

"I..." Question turned his head away, mumbling words to himself.

"Booster, if anything, let the JLA deal with Max."

"Why! They-" Booster began.

"They totally deserve to deal with him," Ted told him darkly. "Trust me, J'onn's probably going to be here any moment. He saw me leave the Watchtower; must've freaked even him out a bit."

"Let the **Gods **battle the sinned," the Question said softly. "**Gods **be damned, sinned be damned... we fools... listen..." He wavered physically. "In six true words..." At that moment, he toppled forward, apparently unconscious - it wasn't as if any of them could tell.

Blue Beetle caught the Question easily enough, then grumbled as he lifted him up. "We'll wait 'til J'onn gets here. Okay?"

Booster glowered at Max, then sighed. "...Yeah. ... Okay..."

* * *

Blue Beetle and Booster Gold were waiting basically on the other side of Edge City, settled on another roof and hid away nicely enough from Checkmate. Booster had bound, gagged, and blindfolded Max, who'd given away to unconsciousness fairly easily after the blonde had taken out some of his anger onto him; Beetle had been stuck with carrying the Question, who still hadn't woken up. 

It had left, at least, the pair enough time to let things sink in:

Blue Beetle had been dead, but wasn't anymore.

Somewhere, somehow, the Question had snapped and gotten even more insane.

Booster Gold had been prepared to kill Maxwell Lord.

Beetle also had attained some powers from the scarab, by what means he still was unsure... and very uncomfortable with.

Ted knelt by the unconscious faceless man, having taken off the Human Enigma's coat, wrapped it up, and tucked it under the Question's head. "Sorry for getting you and him wrapped up in this, Booster..."

"Hey, hey. Look. Don't be; I'm sorry that no one decided they should bother listening to you." Booster frowned and folded his arms. He'd been doing nothing but pacing after they had found a spot to temporarily settle at, and Beetle was getting tired of watching him. "And I think Question's probably too crazy to care about being in danger or not. Actually, I think he likes it, so..."

"Yeah, well." Ted sighed. "Every time I tried to apologize to him, it's not like he thought I had anything to be sorry for either."

"You were really talking to him?"

Lifting his head, Blue Beetle nodded. "Crazy as it sounds, yeah. I don't entirely know what powers he has to be able to, but he could see me and hear me... and everyone else. Anything that lived, anyway. Something about feng shui - which I swear, I thought was a ridiculous technique people use for interior design, but apparently not. Anyway, he didn't always have those powers... I wonder where he learned to do it."

"Speaking of which, when did you get flight lessons?" Booster smirked a bit at him.

"I..." Ted shrugged, helplessly. "The scarab was the original Blue Beetle's. It gave him the power to fly, superstrength, and lightning. So far, I'm pretty sure I only have one out of the three." He would have, admittedly, been too uncomfortable with all three powers. After coming back from the dead, he was abnormal enough as it was.

However, Booster lifted a brow. "You sure? I mean-"

"Trust me, Booster, I don't want to be able to shoot lightning from my hands or be able to arm wrestle with Superman. Being dead and then NOT being dead is enough on my table right now, especially when I don't really have a whole lot left as Ted Kord."

"Ted..."

Blue Beetle scowled. "I'm serious... Kord Industries is as good as gone now, and everything I had was blown to pieces, or otherwise burnt to ashes."

"How do you think I feel?" Booster grumbled. "My apartment..."

"I know," Ted admitted quietly. "But... you know, my point still stands-"

"So does mine! Everyone in my life's being killed, one by one! Who was supposed to be after you, Ted? Not a whole lot to choose from - maybe Bea, or how about Scott! I thought, after I got out of my apartment - after it exploded... 'Wow, I'm this close to losing everything, but hey, at least I'll find Ted'. And what do I hear from Question?" Booster seemed incapable of expressing exactly how he wanted in words, so he added in wild gestures. "I hear you're dead. Gone. Because of **Max**. Of all people, **Max Lord **killed you! I thought maybe he was just crazy, but no. No, the League knew, and nobody told me. That's exactly when I had nothing left but to try my damned hardest to finish what you started, right? Or maybe just kill Max, 'cuz I'd at least have felt better."

There was a moment of silence and unease, and Booster let out a heavy sigh. "But... you know... it doesn't matter. 'Cuz you're not dead. We don't have much, but ... can't we have enough?"

Ted looked at him, then shrugged with a sheepish smile. "Hell, you're right... I'm just glad you're okay. You know, burns and bullets aside."

There was shifting coming from the Question, as he abruptly turned over onto his side, holding onto his head. He muttered, "Infestations... the wrath, the sinned... the death, I can see, I can **See **at last..."

"Still snapped, huh?" Booster muttered.

"What happened, anyway? I kinda missed it when the scarab went flying off. I followed it." Beetle was no longer focusing his eyes on Booster and instead watched Question, hesitant about touching him.

"I really have no idea. He spazzed out and started saying things I totally didn't get. Then I got shot and had to land us both, but Question told me to go away, said he'd cover my tracks. Kept mentioning you. I didn't want to, but he was pretty damned insistent..."

The information hadn't helped clear anything for him, but Ted expressed his confusion in a shrug before placing a gloved hand over the faceless man's shoulder. "Question?"

The dark-haired man turned his head sharply, and Ted assumed he was looking up at him. "Alive. Was it all fake...?"

"No, I was pretty dead for awhile," Ted told him, which was a strange form of assurance. "What happened to you after I left?"

"Gone. There was... nothing..." Question tilted his head as he stared up at Ted. "Nothing. Couldn't **See **you. **Hear **you. Had nothing."

"That seems to be a trend around here," Booster commented.

"Okay, let's slow down, then. Why did you snap when I disappeared for, oh, fifteen minutes or however long it was?" Ted quirked a brow.

Question muttered, "No life to celebrate."

"What's that mean?"

There was a pause, and the faceless man stared at him. Finally, he turned his head away, voice quiet; the Question sounded very disappointed, "You don't remember."

"Remember what?" Ted frowned.

"I think that's his point," Booster told him.

The Question slowly sat up, holding his head. "Purpose, gone. Four years, four years. Gone. Returned, and left, just in days." He lifted his head, and wherever his gaze landed on, it wasn't as if Booster or Beetle could tell. "Maybe not yet... maybe not..."

"Do you know what he's talking about?" Booster Gold sounded tired - and with all things considered, Blue Beetle didn't blame him.

"Not really." Beetle paused to consider. "...I think..."

The Question stood up, wearily. Ted was after him in just a few seconds, telling him, "You sure should be standing? With all that's happened, you still need some serious medical attention-"

"One purpose left..." The faceless man stepped away from him, towards Max, reaching out to grab him by the front of his shirt. "Be damned, let the sinned be damned for all eternity-"

"Aw fuck," Booster muttered, but Blue Beetle stepped in before he said anything else.

"Question!" Ted stepped towards the faceless vigilante. "Question, put him down!"

The Human Enigma held Max over the edge of the roof. "I will," he growled. "I will. An eye for an eye, a life for a life - be sinned, the sinned. Be damned, your sinned soul."

"Stop it - no one else should have to die!"

"Even if he's the cause of your suffering?" Question hissed. "**Both **of you? He, the **Gods **- they did this to **you**!"

"Knock it off already!" Booster told him, frowning. "Ted said that's it, so don't do this!"

Question turned his head away. "You know, Michael. You know, even a little, of how much you'd like to see him pay. Be in pain, for his spirit to suffer with the rest of the damned in the world. I can do that. I can damn him. I can-"

"**Vic**, stop it!" Ted snapped at him, reaching out for the faceless man's arm. "Okay? Just stop it..."

The use of his name had gotten his attention, and the Question lowered his head. "I **See **it, when I step out of my body. I **See **it, what he did to you. But you don't want..."

"No, but..." Ted frowned. "I know that he'll get what's coming to him. But not like this, okay? ...Please? Vic..."

There was silence from the Question. Eventually, he caved in, and threw Max aside, remaining quiet.

Blue Beetle let out a heavy breath of relieved air. Smiling a bit, he let go and looked at the faceless vigilante. "Thanks. For all of the crap you've been putting up with since you got involved."

The Question turned his head to look at Ted, tilting it. "...'Thanks'?" he repeated, as if unsure he heard properly. "...Don't have to..."

"Yeah, well, either you take 'Sorry' or 'Thanks', okay?"

"Ah." Question nodded. "...Then... you're welcome."

_**You are all together. Good.**_

"Where...?" Booster lifted his head, but the faceless man pointed to the sky, where both Martian Manhunter and Superman were descending.

**_This is... _**When J'onn landed lightly, he turned his head to see Max still unconscious.

"Max really was involved," Superman murmured, amazed. "Beetle, it's really good to see you."

"Wish I could say the same," Booster Gold muttered, folding his arms. The Man of Steel turned his head to eye at him, but the blonde hardly wavered.

The Question knelt down, picking up his coat and dusting it off. "So the **Gods **arrive to lay claim to the sinned. A gift from the lowly fools. Credit will be due when it is undue."

"How were we to know that Max-" Superman began.

"Because he shot me in the fucking **head**," Ted grumbled, turning around and folding his arms. "Are you going to take him, Superman?"

The Kryptonian was alarmed by the tone taken to him. "Yes, but... Beetle, we only heard from Question about Max being involved. We didn't think it was possible."

"Because you heard it from someone who was talking to a dead guy," Ted muttered flatly. "And if you heard it from Booster, would it have made a difference?"

Superman hesitated, but J'onn spoke up. **_The unstability of Victor's mind made it questionable for us to make proper conclusions_**.

"Look, that's all real wonderful, but. Just take Max and go already. I'm really not in the mood to deal with the League right now." Ted scowled. "And I mean that, too," he muttered. "I'll be happy to tell stories over a campfire or whatever some other time, but right now..."

"Right now, we should run," the Question muttered to Blue Beetle. "Checkmate will find us, eventually. Let the **Gods **leave with their prize, and we'll take our leave. ...I can **See **them..."

"I understand that we've made mistakes in handling what's been going on lately, but let us help you, Beetle," Superman offered. "You can't run forever."

Booster snorted. "And take your help? You had a helping hand in what happened to us! To Beetle! Thanks so very **fucking much**."

"Let's make this simple."

Eyes turned to the familiar dark cape and cowl of the Dark Knight as he approached from the shadows. Batman glanced over Blue Beetle, eyes narrowed with typical judgement, but made no comment. Turning his head to focus on the group in general, he said, "Checkmate's following you."

"This has been stated pretty thoroughly," the Question told him. "But you've finally decided to take a little investigation time, I hope."

"Hn." Batman seemed content to pretend the Question said nothing. "Max has been keeping his trail pretty clean. But at least we know for sure now. However-"

"I wonder if anyone in the superhero community has 'Captain Obvious' as a name yet," Booster grumbled.

"However." Batman set his glare to the blonde briefly. "...This is big. Much more than any of us could have imagined. To directly put a hand of help in to you three right now would definitely alert them of our awareness."

"Why is this a BAD THING?"

The Question spoke up after Booster was done. "Gives them incentive to move. They find the JLA has Max, they'll use their plans to obliterate them. Not hard for them to do, if they remember anything about their files they used to have... Being subtle might be better. ... Better than **nothing**."

"I may have a way of getting you three somewhere to safety. I'd have to make Vic Sage, Ted Kord, and Michael Carter disappear for awhile. For how long..." Batman lifted a shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. "You'll be safe. And recover - which is something you'll all be needing."

"I don't know about this," Booster muttered bitterly. The Human Enigma remained in silence, but he seemed to be agreeing.

Blue Beetle, however, turned to them and shook his head. "I'm upset, too. But I know we need somewhere to go. Vic, you've been to a lot of different places since I dragged you into this, and they've still been able to follow you. If Batman can make us disappear - and I know he can - so we have somewhere to go..."

"I don't like it," Booster sighed. "I really don't. I don't want to ask for their help, Ted. But... I don't have any good ideas."

Ted glanced to the Question. "How about it?"

The faceless man shrugged, turning his head aside. "...I'll follow. Whatever you want."

"That's real nice and everything, but what do you think?"

"...I think they owe you better than this," Question murmured quietly. "But it'll do... Rather you safe than chance death again so soon..."

Blue Beetle nodded. "So it's a go?"

"Can we really do anything else?" Booster Gold grumbled.

"Not right now, no," Beetle admitted softly. "But hey, we'll manage, right...?" Turning around to the Dark Knight, he nodded. "So, where to?"

* * *

There had been very little exchange of words between all of them. J'onn had assured that he and Superman would take Maxwell Lord to a proper place and arrangement; Ted noted that neither of his teammates felt all that comforted by the Martian's words. Bitterly, he had quietly agreed with them, which had been strange and upsetting; there'd been a time when all of them in the League - formerly or otherwise - had looked up to the Martian Manhunter. Now, Ted felt angry for the lack of trust between them. 

Batman, being Batman, had simply motioned the remaining three to follow him. Pressing a series of commands on his utility belt, he had summoned his Batwing, climbing inside. The Question had grumbled, requiring assistance inside the jet.

Somewhere along the line, Blue Beetle had found himself fallen asleep during the trip. Wherever they were going, it hadn't seemed to be profusely in Ted's mind; pretty much, the fact that he was alive was occupying every feeling in him, and it exhausted him.

However much time had passed didn't matter. Ted found himself waking up, staring at the ceiling of a damp cavern, and listening to Booster sounding annoyed,

"Do you **enjoy **pain?"

The Question muttered, "I ignore it." Then he grunted.

"Bullet wasn't so easy to get to, Vic. Booster, yours went through, but you still need stitches." Batman.

"Can **I **get painkillers?" Booster pleaded.

Ted sat up slowly, and wasn't really surprised to find himself with a headache. It was a bit typical with the stress going on as of late, with what being dead, alive, and everything else. The Question was sitting on top of the gurney - second time in one week - with his jacket and shirt off. Batman had yanked out the bullet that had been lodged in the faceless man's scapula. Booster Gold, whether or not he realized it, had his lower lip sticking out and was obviously not looking forward to his turn.

"Better?" Question turned his head, faceless face in the inventor's direction.

"Eh, kinda," Ted muttered, holding his head.

Batman stepped around the faceless man, narrowing his eyes behind his cowl. "After I'm done with Vic, Alfred will come down to deal with Booster."

"You make it sound like I'm a pain," Booster Gold complained.

"I don't think I need to elaborate, then," Batman muttered under his breath. "I'll be leaving to take care of your arrangements."

Ted peered at him. "Arrangements?"

"You three are going to disappear off the face of the planet," Batman told him, beginning to stitch up the gaping hole in the Question's shoulder. "It means hiding. Pretending to be civillians. So no hunting Checkmate - or being chased by Checkmate. I'll be working with Oracle to set up the proper information for all three of you and your new identities, and where you'll be staying. For now - you're going to be here until we're done."

"How long's that gonna take?" Ted eyed at him. "And as much as I love the vacation idea, but how long are we going to be stuck hiding?"

"It'll take us a few hours to make the arrangements. As for how long you're staying there... it'll vary, until we're prepared to take on Checkmate. They're much more powerful than we can think right now, and we have to leak out the information slowly. We'll contact you when we have to. All your accounts, and whatever's left in them, will be transferred into your new ones. You'll be supported properly through sufficient funds. ...And it'd be helpful if you'd get jobs, too, when everything is set. Go for realism. You're going to be different people, gentlemen." Batman finished the stitching.

"Maxwell Lord," Question muttered.

"Will be in our hands for the time being. For whatever will happen to him is out of our hands."

Question turned his head to look at Batman. "It isn't always, with the Justice League."

"No," Batman growled. "It isn't."

Ted glanced to Booster, brow raised; however, his blonde friend could only shrug helplessly.

"Alfred will be down." Batman set aside his tools, then glared at the three. "Do not touch anything in the cave. All three of you." He narrowed his eyes in Question's direction. "Especially. The computer." Turning around, he started towards the Batmobile.

After Blue Beetle was positive that Batman had left, he looked towards the other two. "So. Wayne Manor again, huh?"

"Again?" Booster was puzzled.

"Was here earlier. Why I was with Batman when I found you," Question informed him, hopping off of the gurney and grabbing his clothes. "Manor. Again. Yes. To be tossed around in the middle."

Ted folded his arms. "I dunno about you, but I'd love to see you go one day where you don't almost **die**, Vic."

"I..." Where his eyebrows should have been, there was a crease, suggesting a frown on the man's faceless face. "...Don't call me that."

"Why not? That's your name, isn't it? I mean, the one you gave yourself, anyway."

"Just. Don't." The Question paused, then added quietly, "Please." He placed on his trenchcoat, deciding it'd be too much of a hassle for a shirt.

"Identity crisis," Booster muttered to Ted, then spoke louder to the Human Enigma. "You call us by our names, though."

"Different. Very different." Question shook his head. "Not... comfortable. With the name."

Maybe it was better not to ask; Ted had a headache, and he wasn't positive he could stand asking the Question much about it. There'd be a complicated and relatively crazy response to it that he wouldn't be able to comprehend right away.

Somehow, this relationship - whatever you could call it - was easier when he was dead, and Ted wasn't entirely positive why.

"Okay then." Ted sighed, rubbing his head. "Do we actually know where Max is?"

"No," Booster muttered.

"Probably afraid that we'll go after him," Question suggested. "Don't know. Martian was probably talking to Clark telepathetically about where. Otherwise, wouldn't say. Couldn't **Hear**, either."

"Clark?" Booster was puzzled.

Ted turned his head to the blonde. "Clark Kent. You know, Daily Planet? He's Superman."

"No shit? Really?"

"Uh-huh." Question approached Blue Beetle. "Hold still."

The inventor peered at the faceless man. "Huh?"

"Reiki. You're in pain."

"Oh. Um."

Booster had immediately perked up, looking worried. "You are?"

"It's just a headache, and I think people fussing over me is gonna make it worse." Ted rubbed his index finger against his temple. "You know, this stress with being dead, not dead, Checkmate, everything. Kinda getting to me."

"Mmhmm. Shut up." The Question peeled off his gloves, leaving them carelessly on the floor of the cave. "Keep still. Arms down." Rubbing his bare hands together, he appeared to be concentrating.

The funny thing was, Ted was positive he was sensing... something off what whatever Question was doing. He had seen him do it to Booster before, but this was different somehow.

He didn't like it, but he didn't say anything.

Reaching out, the Question placed his hands onto the top of Blue Beetle's head. There was a rush of energy -

And the strange thing was, for a moment, Ted was actually capable of seeing some it, in a way. It was a pulse of something warm, yellow; something earthly.

Was this **Sight**?

In that moment, the Question pulled back, tilting his head. "Gone?"

Ted paused, holding his head. Blinking, he nodded. "Yeah. What is that, anyway? Part of feng shui?"

"Not really. Reiki's Japanese. Feng shui's Chinese."

There were light steps coming down from one of the entrances of the cave. At the staircase, Alfred Pennyworth was approaching, looking down towards the three waiting. Nodding to them politely, he greeted them, "Master Sage, still battered?"

"Nnn."

"And Master Kord, it is a delight to see you alive and well." Alfred nodded to Blue Beetle. "Master Carter, you will need your wounds treated?"

"And burns," Question murmured.

"Indeed. Master Kord, perhaps you would like to freshen yourself upstairs? I've left you some clothes outside Master Bruce's shower."

Ted glanced to his two companions.

"What? I can't go shower like this," Booster told him. "You go ahead. And, um... painkillers, please, Alfred?"

A wry smile was on the butler's face. "Of course, Master Carter."

Question nodded to Ted. "Go. ... You've been dead for days. I probably smell better." He gestured. "I'll be here, with Michael. Go ahead."

Eventually, Ted agreed silently, turning and heading upstairs to the main part of the manor warily.

It felt odd, to actually be alone finally. For the past few days, even when he was dead, Question had at least been his company. It was awkward. Worrying.

But he was sure that nothing would happen; there were both Booster Gold and the Question in the cave if anything happened to be threatening.

"Ugh, I think Vic passed on some of his paranoia," Ted grumbled, heading towards the bathroom.

It was the first time he'd taken off his suit since before he'd been shot in the head. The thought made him wince, but it was the truth. So he looked at himself in the mirror quietly after the top of his Blue Beetle suit was gone.

It was then Ted Kord found the tattoo of a blue beetle on his chest.

So. That was where the scarab went.

"Aw, jeez," he groaned.

**

* * *

Notes:**

You know... I don't think I actually have much to say here.

Except, if you're confused about stuff, you probably should be, since it won't be cleared up until later. Which means, you're probably confused about the Question.

And rightfully, you should be.

WHEE.


	7. The Group Dance in Fashionable Step

**Disclaimers and Useless/Useful Stuff to Know:**

Don't own any of these characters. Never will. Wish I did. Major spoilers for "Countdown to Infinite Crisis". Good idea to read the comic first. Also, spoilers for the Question six-issue miniseries.

**

* * *

Warning: The Pool is Contaminated**

by Alba Aulbath

* * *

"There now. Was that so difficult?" Alfred helped ease Booster Gold off of the table. "I'm sure with Master Sage's abilities, it will heal in no time, along with your unfortunate burns." 

"I could still feel it," Booster muttered. "Not that it hurt, but... well, ya know..."

The butler nodded to him. "Indeed, I do. If you would like, there are at least two other showers in the manor; perhaps you would like to use one?" He paused, then turned his head to look towards the Question; the faceless man was seemingly staring at the ceiling. "Master Sage, what is the matter?"

"Something," the Human Enigma murmured. "Something wrong. I can **See **him. Ted..."

"What's wrong with Ted?" Booster demanded immediately.

"Staring. Mirror. The mark, I **See **it now." The Question tilted his head back down to face towards Booster Gold. With a gloved finger, he seemed to be attempting to draw a picture on his own chest. "The mark. A beetle. Blue Beetle."

"You lost me. As usual." Booster sighed.

"The scarab isn't gone," the Question muttered, turning towards the stairs. "It's in him. I can **See **that now..."

Booster Gold glanced briefly to Alfred, who simply gestured towards the exit, "It seems as though that you will be required with friends before you bathe, Master Carter."

Walking up the stairs, Booster followed after the faceless man. "So. How exactly can you see this?"

"The energy. Different." The Question stopped at the top of the steps, turning to Booster. "Most people... their energy is earth-based. Human beings. We're born to walk the Earth, not fly. Not shoot fire from our eyes. But magic... I **See **it. I **See **where the scarab clung to, pumped its life into him... and is part of him now. Lightning energy. Not like Flash. Not at all. Flash - the speed of lightning. Ted - the power. The power of Ra... supposedly."

"Supposedly...?"

"The first scarab was destroyed. Wasn't really an artifact of magic. ...Not really. Twisted. Alien. Egyptians have supposed links to aliens - some speculate. Not surprising." The Question turned around, stepping away. "This one... don't know for sure. Not an expert on magic artifacts."

Booster Gold considered. "Dr. Fate is."

"No," Question muttered. "Not talking to him."

"What, did the entire League and-?"

"All ignored him. All thought it was a waste of time." The faceless man's tone was easily bitter. "Even Ollie..."

There was an abrupt crash down the hallway of Wayne Manor. Booster's eyes widened, then cursed. "Ted!"

"That way." Question pointed, then hurried down towards the room where Blue Beetle was.

* * *

He had stared at the mirror enough, and finally turned away, looking down at his chest. The mark was there, plain as day. It was irritating him, almost taunting him. It would have been easier, if the scarab was just an object that happened to give him powers - so maybe, he could have found a way to undo it eventually, but. 

No. It was part of him. And he thought on the "why" part.

Why was it part him.

Because it had to be, to give him life. It had to grab hold of him, his heart, his essence and heal him. Completely regenerate him, and make itself part of him to make him whole and living. It had to.

Not that he ever asked for it.

Why did it do it.

That, he had no idea.

Ted's hand clenched, and tried desperately to figure it out. How much power did he have now? Could he get rid of it?

He didn't want it.

"God **damn **it!"

Slamming a fist into the wall, he found that it was quite easy to break through it and everything else that stood in its way.

Strength. He had strength, too. Flight, power, and...

"Fuck." Ted pressed his back against the wall, holding his head.

The doorknob to the bathroom jiggled, and he remembered he had locked the door after going inside. Not another moment later, the door was slammed open, the Question stepping inside. He remained silent, looking at Ted quietly, then turned to observe the brand new hole in the wall that the inventor was sure Batman wasn't going to appreciate.

"Ted! What happened?" Booster was just a foot behind the Question, and quickly going to his friend's side.

"The scarab. Strength." The Question gestured to the hole. "Ted didn't like what he found."

"What... that's what he was talking about." Booster finally noticed the blue mark on Ted's chest. "Or did you get that without telling me?"

"Haha, **not **funny right now." Ted stood up from leaning against the wall. "This is crazy. I don't want this thing in... inside of me!"

The Question shrugged. "How else were you going to come back?"

"Maybe I didn't **want to come back**!"

There was immediate silence after Ted had shouted that. It took a few seconds for it to settle in, and cause Blue Beetle to realize what he had really said.

Booster cut in before Ted could say another word. "Yeah, well, maybe some of us are actually glad you're alive."

"Booster, I didn't..."

"So what if it isn't **normal**? I didn't have anything or anyone else, so I'm actually **happy **you're alive!"

The Question silently placed a hand to Booster Gold's shoulder. The blonde reluctantly went silent.

It placed in another awkward pause between all three of them, until the faceless man finally said, "No one asked for anything. Not out loud. Didn't ask for you to come back. ... But didn't ask for you to die, either." The Question took away his hand, stepping back. "...Didn't ask for you to come to me. But it all happened anyway. Maybe you don't want your powers. Maybe you don't want what you consider 'abnormal'. But it's there."

"What makes it so different?" Ted scowled at him. "I mean, what you call the League and everyone else. What makes me so different?"

"...What makes you..." The Question folded his arms, lowering his head. "What makes you different... is that you're Ted." He turned and quickly walked out of the bathroom.

It left the pair in a third round of silence for a few seconds before Booster Gold let out a sigh, turning to his friend. "I know... it's weird for you. I can't really imagine, but. You know. I'm glad anyway. I've already said that, Ted. And I know I'm not the only one who's glad. I think Question's actually relieved, too. In his really crazy kind of way."

"Sorry." Ted frowned and held up his hand. "I know both of you don't want to hear it, but I am. I'm really damned sorry about all of this. I... you know, when I went to check out what was going on, after no one else would help... I think I was really prepared for the worst. I didn't think that this would happen..."

"But it did." Booster eyed at him. "We don't mind if it's weird, Ted. I mean... think about it. A crazy guy who talks to dead people, a guy from the future, and a dead guy with powers from a magic bug thingamabob. It's not a big deal in this kind of world."

"It's still... kind of strange, I just don't really..."

"Well, just don't put holes through walls for awhile," Booster suggested. "We'll figure it out, Ted..." Turning around, the blonde stepped out finally, a bit awkwardly.

"Maybe," Ted muttered to himself.

* * *

"You're confusing," Booster Gold decided. 

It had been twenty minutes after they checked on Ted; the two had separated for their respective cleaning rituals. By the time Booster had arrived - he was wearing regular clothes provided to him by Alfred - to the living room, the Question had already settled after a wash. His clothes were new, but somehow he still looked scruffy. It was probably due to the fact that he hadn't combed his hair and the clothes looked wrinkled on him.

There was no mask on Question's face, and no bonding gas used, so he looked reasonably normal. Just Vic Sage, with ruffled wet red hair and an expresionless face.

Vic Sage who didn't like to be called Vic Sage.

"Mm," Question replied.

"I mean. Well." Booster pulled up a chair, turning it around so he could straddle it backwards. "You don't like being personal, do you?"

The Question stayed silent.

"Whenever you do, you walk away or change the subject. You **are **happy Ted's back, right?"

The red-haired man glanced aside. "...Happy." He shrugged. "It's preferred he's alive."

"Then I'm going to go with 'yes I am happy thank you for asking Booster'. Okay then. So..."

"Bad subject. Don't want to talk about it." The Question eyed at him.

Booster frowned. "Why? I mean... I don't know if you've ever lost a best friend, but-"

"I have," Question told him sharply. His eyes had narrowed, staring at Booster Gold intensely, but the expression quickly disappeared. "...Have... it was awhile ago."

The reaction wasn't one that Booster Gold had expected, so it took him a moment to continue. "...But. Um. So you know? Like, how it feels and..."

"I do," he muttered. "...But for me. About Ted. It's... different. Difficult."

"Why?"

"It is. Something happened, awhile ago. Don't expect him to know or remember, but... it'd been... snowing..." The Question shrugged. "Never mind."

"Hey, no. No, tell me." Booster sat upright, genuinely interested.

Question shook his head. "Complicated. Difficult. Can't talk about it. ... But... I... wanted. Wanted to help Ted. When he asked me. Really wanted. That's enough?"

"Yeah, I guess." Booster didn't sound very satisfied, but with the Human Enigma, he fathomed that as the best he was going to get out of the Question.

"Gentlemen."

The pair turned their heads in the direction of the shadows, where Batman stepped out.

"Jeez, do you have to do that, even in your own home?" Booster grumbled.

Batman didn't respond. "In a half hour, Oracle and I will be finished. Alfred will have your suits repaired and cleaned, too, by then. After that, he'll escort all three of you to the airport and hand you your papers for your new identities. Clothes and everything else will be at this address." He held out a slip of paper to the Question, who accepted it. "It's where you'll be staying."

Booster leaned over to look at the address, then raised his eyebrows. "Philadelphia?"

"Don't worry about bills or anything. I'll be funding." Batman turned sharply, stepping away. "I won't be back, but when we're done, Alfred will let you know."

"Naturally," Booster muttered.

Question looked over the address, then narrowed his eyes. It seemed as though he waited until the Dark Knight was out of earshot to speak, "Did this on purpose..."

"What?"

"Never mind." The Question placed the slip of paper into his pocket, then stood up, walking out of the living room.

Perking up and looking confused, the blonde looked after the Question. "Where you going now?"

"Hungry. Alfred's busy with the suits. Going to eat." The Human Enigma glanced over his shoulder to Booster Gold. "Coming?"

Shrugging, Booster followed.

* * *

While Ted pulled the pleasant blue sweater he'd been given by Alfred over his head, he had been considering what was going to be happening for, likely, the next few weeks. He was going to be in a home, given by Batman - probably his subtle way of saying sorry, or at least pretending to be - and rooming with both Booster and the Question. 

Pausing, Ted backtracked.

Booster. The Question. And himself.

Guy from the future with no clue. A nutjob with ridiculous feng shui powers. And a dead guy with common sense.

One house.

"And they say Batman is one of the most brilliant minds of the League," Ted grumbled.

The inventor stepped out of the bathroom once he was finished slipping on the shoes that Alfred had left for him. Perfect fit; he wasn't really sure how the butlet managed it, but he always just seemed to know what would fit and what wouldn't. He supposed that caring for Bruce Wayne (and other children) for so many years would have given him some sort of sixth sense about shoesize and all; that was Ted's presumption, though.

Not immediately spotting either Booster or Question, the brunet continued through the various rooms of Wayne Manor - until he came upon both of them inside the kitchen. The Question had found and taken a pickle jar, and was currently eating to his heart's content, as it appeared. Booster Gold had settled upon a container of peanuts.

"Got hungry," Question murmured to inform the brunet.

"So I can see," Ted commented wryly.

Digging into his pocket, the Question held out a slip of paper. "Address. Our new place. Leaving sometime later. Batman didn't specificy much. Philadelphia. Going there by plane. Alfred will take us to the airport."

"Philadelphia? Nice place." Ted shrugged, looking over the paper. "Do we have any idea what this house is supposed to look like?"

"No, but because Batman's paying for it, I'm hoping it's nice and expensive," Booster expressed between munches of his peanuts.

"Or he could be a jerk and give us a crappy place," Ted grumbled.

Question shrugged, taking and pocketing the paper. "Can't be picky."

"Sure we can. We just don't have a damned choice about it."

"Point," the detective agreed faintly. "...But better for us to be safe at this point in time. Isn't that what you think?"

Blue Beetle frowned faintly to himself; he wanted both of them to finally be out of danger because of Checkmate - more specifically, because he still felt responsible for both of them and the life threatening situations they had been in for the past few days. It didn't mean that he appreciated being forced to go somewhere because the JLA thought it was a brilliant thing to do. Moreover, it was Batman's idea. Batman, who couldn't even growl up a 'I'm sorry'.

As a matter of fact, no one apologized to him.

"It's temporary," the Question murmured.

"Is that what Batman said?" Ted muttered darkly.

"It's what he claims. And it's what we decide. It's temporary. No **God **can tell us otherwise."

The inventor considered that. True; the JLA couldn't really force them to stay put if they didn't want to... could they?

"Ahem." Three heads turned towards Alfred Pennyworth, who was gesturing. "If you would, sirs; I have taken care of your ... business attires accordingly and packed what essentials you'll be needing at your new residence. They're in the trunk of the car waiting for you outside. However, you may wish to review the identities Master Bruce and Miss Oracle have organized for you before we take our leave. Master Bruce has thought it appropriate to prepare yourselves physically for different appearances, considering your fame or otherwise being infamous amongst the public."

"'Prepare yourselves physically'?" Booster glanced at the other two.

"Disguises. Changing our appearances," the Question elaborated, holding out his hand and accepting a folder from Alfred. "Whatever we can change."

Alfred nodded. "If you require assistance...?"

"Might." Question glanced through papers and other necessities in the mix. "Driver's lisences. Hmm." Turning towards Ted, he remarked lightly as he offered him the identification card, "Mr. Parker."

"Huh?" Ted raised a brow, accepting it and glancing at the card. "...'Peter Parker'? You gotta be joking..."

"And Mr. Scott Summers," the Question added, giving Booster Gold his card. "Bruce changed your hair in it. Have to do the same."

Booster looked a little alarmed. "Huh? But... but I like my hair color!"

"Doesn't matter. Have to change it, Michael."

"But... I..." Booster glanced to Ted, silently pleading for help. However, his friend simply shrugged at him. "But I don't wanna..."

"Want to change your hair color, or let Checkmate find you?" The Question peered at him; the blonde could only frown.

Ted leaned over to try to glance at the detective's card. "What's yours?"

"...Matt Murdock."

"Who did he get to come up with these names, Bart Allen?" Ted muttered, rolling his eyes a little.

"Nn. Not surprised." In a very low voice, Question was close to grumbling, "At least mine wasn't Walter Kovacs."

Booster was puzzled by that. "What?"

"Nothing." The Question placed the card away into his pocket. "Have fake birth certificates and everything else here. I'll take them." He shuffled the papers together back into the folder before tucking them away into his coat. Approaching Booster, he took the blonde's wrist. "C'mon."

"But I like being blonde!" Booster complained, sticking out his lower lip as he was dragged off. "TEEED!"

Ted rubbed the bridge of his nose and pretended not to hear. "Do you have any spare glasses without lenses, Alfred?"

"Yes. You would like a pair, then, Master Kord?" Alfred responded curiously.

"Hey. Works for Clark Kent," Ted muttered, shrugging.

* * *

Before the three left for passing through security, Alfred had made sure they were prepared, appearances and suitcases and all. Booster unhappily had dark red hair and had been given a pair of shades by the butler; the Question made due with himself, dyeing his hair completely black and wearing sunglasses, completely blacking out his eyes - the Human Enigma went to the extent of giving himself a cut on the left side of his jawline to conceal his newfound identity; Ted left himself simply with the pair of glasses with no lens. 

Afterwards, Alfred smiled calmly to them, handing Ted a bag. "As I'm sure you'll all be very hungry when you arrive. A safe trip to you all - as it is much deserved, sirs."

Ted seriously wondered how Alfred kept his sanity, living with someone like Batman.

Approaching the security area towards the gates, Ted took a glance inside the bag he'd been given. "Whatever it is, it smells really, really good."

"Hey, it's Alfred, man. I swear, he can make anything," Booster commented.

"Nn." The Question sounded distracted, glancing over his shoulder.

Ted lifted a brow. "What is it?" He lifted his head, to glance behind himself. However, he didn't notice anything or anyone out of the ordinary - but he did keep in mind of the Question's **Sight**.

"Someone. I..." Question sounded bothered, very engrossed with whatever he was seeing or **Seeing**. "Recognized someone. Or... thought I did. ...Nothing..."

"Did you or didn't you?" Booster peered at him.

"Column A or B. Person's dead," the Question told him bluntly.

It quickly grew a broad silence in the trio.

Booster stepped through the metal detectors without any apparent problems, continuing on his way quietly; however, the Question stopped after the metal detector went off on him.

"Sir, please remove all objects from your pockets," the security guard told him.

Question narrowed his eyes a little, muttering to himself, reluctantly digging into his pockets. He placed a variety of objects into the container; a silver fork that Ted was positive was from Wayne Manor, two paperclips twisted together, the batarang from a couple of days before, a CD that was apparently deliberately broken in half, a lock, a file, and a broken watch.

"I'm afraid will have to confinscate a few of these items, sir-" one of the security guards began, but the second cut him off.

"I see loads of people from Gotham walking away with a batarang; I don't think that's a big deal."

"Eh, true. But this fork..."

"Is everything in an airport these days considered lethal?" Ted grumbled.

However, the Question turned his head to look at the brunet, his tone a bit confused, "They're not?"

Ted introduced his hand to his own forehead, sighing heavily and shaking his head.

"We're confiscating the file, but you can have everything else back after you walk through the metal detector again," the first security guard informed the Question.

"The file but not the fork - yeah, I see the logic in that," Ted murmured.

"It was a perfectly good file," the Question mumbled. "Took it from the Watchtower." He stepped through the detector a second time without any difficulties.

After emptying his pockets, Ted found himself baffled when he followed the Question; the detector had gone off after he stepped through. "That's... weird, I don't have anything else-" Then he considered.

The scarab had metal residue; did that get absorbed inside of him, too?

"Sir, please take off your shoes," another security guard requested from the Question; the Human Enigma was grumbling, obviously irritated. After taking off his shoes, the guard was alarmed to find sugar packets in one of them.

Ted sighed. "Good Lord..."

The metal detector still went off on him, and the inventor wanted to scream in aggravation.

* * *

Booster Gold had gone on ahead to his seat, sitting back and returning to his can of peanuts that Alfred had allowed him to take with him. Much to his surprise, the Question and Ted were still behind at the security checkpoint, but he thought about it. After all, Question seemed to have difficulty with authoritive figures... hopefully, he wasn't giving them too tough a time. It was one of the last things they all needed. 

He had wondered about this, going to all live in the same space. On one hand, vacation was really ideal; Booster was still recovering from his burns, both old and new, and a gunshot in his shoulder. So far, he'd been able to deal with it relatively well; the Question's reiki ability to help heal and take away the pain was helpful.

On the other hand, Booster still really wanted to go and confront Checkmate for all of the hell they had put them through. He was furious with the JLA and just about every other costume crimefighter in the world. They'd all ignored Ted. It had gotten him killed.

Ted was alive again, but it didn't make what they did any more or less right.

What had honestly shocked him was possibly J'onn's behavior; Batman had always been something of a jerk - though the extents these days were a bit shocking to Booster - and Superman obviously didn't like the Question much to begin with. J'onn, on the other hand... had been something of a father figure for all of them. He had been someone they all looked up to and respected, even if they didn't voice it. They didn't have to; the Martian was psychic, after all.

But, he had pushed Ted aside as well.

Booster was angry with all of them, and felt frustrated that none of them understood what they'd been through, how much it had rocked his world to hear that Ted had died. He'd lost too many people to begin with. While he hadn't had much time to really adjust to the news, the very fact that his best friend had died... he could predict what would have occurred next. He would have snapped, would have killed Maxwell Lord if he could have. He would have still blamed the League - maybe more so. It could have ended badly.

Which was why he was so glad that Ted came back.

"I can **not **believe y- no, no. No, wait, I **do**. Because you're Grade A crazy, I swear!"

Blue Beetle, of course. Booster lifted his head and waved a hand to both him and the Question.

Grumbling, Ted flopped into his seat next to Booster. Pointing at the dark-haired detective, he continued with, "This nutjob had toothpicks in his shoes!"

"Why toothpicks?" Booster wondered, clearly confused.

"Why not?" Question muttered, folding his arms.

"Why did you have toothpicks!" Ted demanded.

"Why don't you?"

"I... uh..." Ted slapped his hands to his face. "UGH. I'm not even going to think of a sufficient response to **that**!"

The Question shrugged. "You and the metal detectors. What was wrong?"

"Um." The brunet hesitated. "I don't know. Kind of..." There was a brief sigh. "Something to do with that mark on my chest now, I think. I kinda bluffed my way out of it; there can be metal in ink for tattoos, so I kinda left it as that."

"Mmm."

"Better than being the one carrying around a fork in my damned pocket," Ted muttered.

"It was a nice fork," the Question told him, his tone quite close to sounding pleasant, sitting back and looking almost... proud of himself.

"Okay, you. You." Ted pointed at him. "You, don't talk right now. You're going to give me a nervous breakdown in the next twenty-four hours."

Though the Question went silent and Ted slid down in his seat to brood, Booster was positive he saw a faint smug expression on the Human Enigma's face.

Booster Gold sat back a bit, shrugging to himself as he picked up a magazine from the net in front of him. There wasn't much to look at, but left him at least looking as though he was busy.

Pass the time; that's all there was now.

_

* * *

There had been snow then. It was biting at his skin, cold and gnawing, warning. This was death's ground._

_Gravestones were surrounding him, crying out to him, screaming. They were cold, too._

_He sat against the casket, holding his head. It'd been the first time in years that he shed tears._

_Two days before, there had been gunshots and red staining the white snow. The shots were meant for him._

_Step, step, step, and approaching._

_He lifted his head, to find flowers were offered to him._

_And it was him, and him who smiled at Vic Sage, nobody ever smiled at Vic Sage._

_Step, step, step, and was approaching..._

_It had been the day Dr. Rodor - sweet, old Tot, rest in peace, in peace, peace..._

_Flowers had been offered by him._

_In six true words, he said,_

_"He'd want you to celebrate life."_

_He wept._

_**There was something wrong, something dark, reaching into him, trying to force him out-**_

_**"You, who walks between two worlds. Give me what's mine."**_

"Hey. HEY. Psst! Wake up!"

_**"Give me your-"**_

"Question!"

The Human Enigma jerked awake, blinking, frowning.

Had he fallen asleep?

Turning his head, he looked at Ted, who was hovering over him. "You all right...?"

The Question sat back slowly, touching his forehead. "...Fine."

Letting out a sigh, Ted scowled at him. "See? You do need sleep like any other human being," he told him.

"Mm." Question lowered his gaze, closing his eyes.

Who had it been? Who interrupted him?

Him. **Him**. Dead, but alive.

How?

The Question pondered the question.

"Finally," Booster grumbled. "You sure that was only forty minutes?"

The plane took a dip as it began to land.

Him, him, **him**. He, who refused to somehow die, to pass on. What did he want?

Question bit at his knuckles. Was he nervous? Against something like **him**, yes. What did **he **want?

"Question, c'mon," Ted hissed at him.

"Ah. Yes," the Human Enigma murmured.

_Step, step, step, and was approaching..._

_A smile, flowers, Six True Words._

Taking his suitcase, he turned to Ted, briefly touching his shoulder. "...Thank you," the Question murmured.

The inventor raised a brow at him, clearly puzzled.

The Question did not elaborate, leaving the plane ahead of him.

* * *

The three had taken a taxi out into Philadelphia after leaving the airport. There was a bit of another awkward silence around the trio; the Question was quieter than usual, and it bothered Ted. Seeming to have a sixth sense about Ted's unease, Booster Gold chose to say nothing in return. 

Hence, they all said nothing.

There was just something a little more odd about the Question - that was what Ted figured. The Hub City vigilante seemed to be in deep thought, brows narrowed into a deep frown and considering something. However, Ted couldn't fathom what; moreover, Question probably wouldn't have been willing to share.

What he wasn't sure he could admit to, before he woke the Question up in the plane, the man had looked as though he was in great pain. By all things logical, it was weird. By all things illogical, it was still really strange. Ted wasn't sure what to make of it, and if it was something he really ought to have inquired about.

Still, he stayed quiet, pressing his forehead against the seat in front of him.

When the taxi stopped at the appropriate address, the three stepped out and stopped at the stoop to see the home they were basically being forced to live in.

It was, naturally, big; that was the first word that came to Ted's mind. It was a Victorian house, a bit old-fashioned but completely taken in good care by the looks of it. It had a few different shades of blue - something Ted could appreciate - and a pleasant garden planted in the front. There was a backyard, from what Ted could tell from his angle, and... well... generally speaking, it was just huge.

Big enough for three people with serious issues, no doubt. Or, Ted hoped.

"What'd I say? Nice, big, and expensive," Booster smirked.

Ted folded his arms, then shrugged, grinning.

"Eh, it'll do," he commented.

**

* * *

Notes:**

After intenseness... I figured some pretty normal events would be appreciated. WHAT DO YOU THINK ZOMG.

Yeah, I'm updating this way too quickly for my own good.


	8. An Oblique in Condensation

**Disclaimers and Useless/Useful Stuff to Know:  
**Don't own any of these characters. Never will. Wish I did. Major spoilers for "Countdown to Infinite Crisis". Good idea to read the comic first. Also, spoilers for the Question six-issue miniseries.

**

* * *

Warning: The Pool is Contaminated**

by Alba Aulbath

* * *

"Phew. Fully furnished." Ted let out a low whistle. 

Inside of the house was complete; essential furniture and decor were in place to suggest that they'd been at least living there for awhile - even if this was there first time setting foot inside. There was even a vase full of flowers set on the dining table.

The rooms were wide and bigger than any of them were really used to, especially considering how expensive it all was - which wasn't very surprising. Boy billionare Bruce Wayne paid for it all, and then some.

Ted paused in the kitchen, snagging piece of paper that was taped to the refridgerator.

_All three of you-  
__Upstairs are the bedrooms. The middle one has been set up for Ted, the left for Vic, and right for Michael. No personal items have been retrieved yet, but we've set up the rooms to the best of our abilities_.

One might appreciate all of the effort that was placed through this transaction. One might have been eternally grateful.

However, in spite of all the work that Batman and Oracle had put through in setting up the home for them, Ted could still taste something bitter in his mouth. Would they bother to go and try to pick through their personal items, whatever was left of them? Ted's home was already burned to the ground, and Booster's apartment had exploded already. Did Vic even have anything personal left?

It felt incredibly offensive, somehow. In spite of all the efforts placed into getting them somewhere safe, he was insulted.

So it was much to his surprise that lightning sparked around his hands and caused the slip of paper to catch on fire.

"**Ohm'GodOW**!" Ted dropped the burning paper, then grumbled as he stomped his foot over it.

Flight. Superstrength. Lightning.

The scarab had given him everything, on top of being granted life again. He never felt more irritated.

"So you have that, too," the Question remarked, standing in the doorway of the kitchen. "All three necessary powers."

"Yeah, I'm real flattered." Ted sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"Need to learn to control it."

Ted raised a brow. "Okay, look. The first guy who had these powers? He's pretty damned dead. Any other magical fellah, I really don't want to talk to."

"And you shouldn't," the Question agreed darkly. "Lightning chi isn't my forte. But. I can... help." He turned around. "When you're ready to be helped."

"What? So I can learn the oh-so-wonderful art of feng shui, too?"

"Whatever is necessary. Primarily meditation would be your requirement. Powers are often inflicted by emotion. Meditation and going **Inside **will help. ...But later." Question turned and walked away, presumably to continue exploring the insides of the house.

"Sounds like a real great time," Ted grumbled.

In regards to the Question, it really wasn't that he wasn't grateful to him; for all that he'd done, Blue Beetle felt like he truly owed him, even if he was a frustrating nutjob. However, Ted wasn't looking forward to learning his powers. He wanted to forget about them.

There were different parts as to why he didn't like them. Magic always bothered him. It was strange, and it could do almost anything - even harm Superman. It wasn't normal, and Ted was used to being pretty average - brilliance aside - during his entire life. Maybe wearing tights and riding around in a giant Bug wasn't really typical of the American males, but still. Even if Ted had, regrettably, been depicted as a prankster and not someone to take seriously, his intelligence had been recognized at least even a little by the rest of the superheroing community.

Now that he had powers, did his brilliant mind matter? No one turned to Superman to solve cases. No, that was usually Batman's job, because his was just human and his talents were recognized. No one decided they wanted Wonder Woman to find and disarm a bomb that'd go of in thirty minutes **and **find the culprit. Not usually. No; those powered heroes were known for their powers. Not for any other skills.

Was Ted going to simply be known as 'the guy who shoots lightning from his hands' now? It grated his nerves. He didn't like it. He loved to flaunt his intelligence and his **normal **acrobatic skills, not seeing if he could wrestle Lobo in the air and win.

There was a sigh. Ted did have to admit, though; even if he wanted to suppress and forget he had powers, he would have to learn to control them first. And currently, the only teacher available was the Question.

Ted decided that he was going to be blowing up Philadelphia under **his **guidance.

"I could use that lunch now," he muttered, going for the bag Alfred had given him.

* * *

It had been two hours into their arrival in the house. Booster had settled in quickly and decided sleep was in order, and had claimed the sofa. Neither Ted nor the Question objected. Himself, Ted had attempted to find something to keep his mind off of matters, and had decided to spend his time with the shelves of books in the living room. 

The Question had gone off to gazing quietly out the window, a frown on his face that was so used to be expressionless.

He watched, watched and could **See **him approaching.

Him. Him.

**He stepped out, concentrating, to confront him.**

**"You didn't move on," the Question noted.**

**"It's not yet my time. Not yet."**

**"Stubborn."**

**"Yes." He eyed at the Question. "Aren't we both? Men who walk between two worlds."**

**"We're different. Very different. And besides... you're only in one world now. What do you want from me?"**

**"Look at me," he laughed. "Look at me. I have no body now. You disposed of it after my death. You, you have such talents in these two worlds. I want that. I'll take it."**

**"You can try."**

**"I will do it."**

The Question's hands clenched.

**"Stay away from here, Psychopomp," the faceless man warned.**

**"I want nothing to do with them. They'll be safe from me - unless you make this difficult."**

**"Don't threaten."**

**"You can't damn me. You can't comdemn me. I'm already comdemned - just not the way you'd like me to be."**

**The Question leapt wildly at him.**

**They battled. The Human Enigma threw out his foot, striking his opponent with strength and determination. He blocked and returned the blow. Question tore his fingers into his spirit, chi, very being.**

**But he laughed and he reached out, grabbing onto the Question's head. "Try not to think too deeply."**

_Step, step, step-_

**The Question panicked and drew back.**

He held his head, scowling, looking out the window.

"What is it?" Ted asked, frowning.

Watching, **Seeing**, Psychopomp had already left.

"Nothing," the Question murmured. "Nothing." He turned away from the window quietly, tilting his head to watch Ted.

It would be a requirement, now. Someone had to learn. Ted had to learn.

"Put the book down. Outside. Now." Question gestured to the backyard. "Important."

"Question, we just got here a couple of hours ago. I'm bushed, Booster's exhausted, and while I'm sure you hardly ever take a nap you've gotta be tired, too. I don't really feel like learning magic right now."

The Human Enigma nodded. "Mm-hmm."

"So you understand?"

"Yes. Now get up."

"Look." Ted took in a breath, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't really want anything to do with these powers, sooo-"

"No choice." Question turned his head to look at him. "I only know one form of practice that some call magic. Might help. Otherwise, you're stuck."

"Maybe I wanna be stuck."

"And accidentally break something when you're emotional," he commented drily. "Enhanced strength. Flight. Lightning. Need to control them, Ted."

Ted wanted to be stubborn, and while he definitely was not in the mood for this, the Question was hardly backing down. Though, he did seem... distracted with something. Ever since he was looking out the window so intensely. It brought curiosity along; what had he been looking at?

Standing up reluctantly, Ted followed the Question to the backdoor, but he still decided to play up a conversation. Something had still had him wondering.

"Why've you been sticking around and helping us out? I mean, even from the start... You could have probably left and been better off on your own."

Question hesitated, turning his head aside. "Wanted to. Needed to make people see the truth. No one else could have. ...And."

"And?"

"You don't remember."

Now this was exactly what they had been talking about a day or so ago, and the brunet was still confused. "Remember what?" Ted peered at him.

The detective had that same tone of disappointment in regards to the subject. "Don't remember at all," he murmured, then shrugged. "...Doesn't matter."

"Hey, with the rare expression in your tone of voice, sounds important enough. What is it?"

"Something that happened, sometime ago. It..." The Question's brows narrowed. "If you don't remember, then nothing to say."

Ted rubbed his fingers on the bridge of his nose. "Uh-huh," he muttered.

When they were outside in the backyard, Ted fully observed it. It was a wide lawn, mowed before their arrival to a point of strange perfection. There was another garden in the back with colorful flowers blossoming in the faint chill of the air, somehow peace-inducing. The Question walked towards the garden quietly, gazing down into it before he sat into the grass, legs folded.

Ted chose to stand behind him.

"Sitting down will help," the Question suggested.

"I'm pretty comfortable standing, thanks."

"Hm." Question nodded, indifferent. "Retreat **Inside**. What makes you... you. Not your powers, not even your intelligence. Just your essence."

"Okay. What's the definition of 'Ted Kord?'"

"Who do you think you are?"

Ted considered. He'd been asking himself that one since he returned to life. What made him... him?

He knew what didn't. And he knew some things that did.

Not powers or brilliance or wits. Not anything but himself. Technically... he had done it before. He had **Seen**, on accident, before. And he'd been his own essence, when he was dead.

What was that feeling then? He felt... centered.

Opening his eyes, things were not normal. He'd **Seen **that before when he was dead. There were brilliant colors, familiar, chi, energy. It was strange. Different.

Turning, he looked and **Saw **the Question.

Who was faceless.

"You didn't put on your mask when I wasn't looking, did you?" Ted wondered.

"So you can **See **that truth," the Question mused.

"Explain?"

The Question stood up, folding his arms. "If you were to look at Batman even if he was in normal clothing, you would still **See **who he is. Batman. It's his soul, his essence, his being. Just... as I am without a face. What people see, with their normal eyes, their simple eyes... that is my mask."

"It doesn't make you any less of your name, though," Ted told him. "But you call yourself the Question because that's who you are?"

"No. I call myself that because I don't know who I am," he murmured.

Blinking a little, Ted winced and lost the **Sight**, finding himself with a headache. "Oh, good..."

"Not used to it," the Question commented quietly. "But you will be... soon, I hope." Turning, he walked back into the house, hands in his pockets.

It left Ted wondering. When had the Question lost all sense of who he was?

He didn't think on it very long; the headache was pestering him. Grumbling, Ted retreated inside.

* * *

For early September, the air was a big rigid, much more than any of them would have liked. It was close to eight o' clock, and though Ted was sure that the Question would never admit to it, it appeared as though the detective was weary himself. There was something on the Human Enigma's mind, though he wasn't willing to express it. Not that it shocked Ted any, but it didn't keep him from being curious. 

And maybe, just maybe, he felt as though he should help the Question, with whatever was bothering him. After all, Hub City's vigilante had been willing to help Ted; why not the same in return?

Still, the Question seemed well prepared to avoid both Ted and Booster Gold. It irritated Blue Beetle to no end.

They all had eaten whatever Alfred made for them separately, all on their own and at different times.

The good man had included cheesecake for Ted.

It was eight o' five when the Question had started towards the front door, wearing his coat and fedora, but no sunglasses. Ted had tucked himself away into his bedroom, but Booster had already slept most of the day away to notice the Human Enigma starting for the door.

"Where ya goin'?" Booster made no hesitation to ask.

The Question paused, hand on the doorknob. "Out. Away. To somewhere..." He turned his head.

It somehow hadn't occured to Booster until that moment that the Question looked so tired. Too old to be, what, thirty-five at best?

"Do you even know where you're gonna go?" Booster tilted his head.

"I go where Philadelphia takes me," the Question told him.

"And now for the 'why'?"

Question frowned faintly. "There's someone who stays. There's someone who goes. Though all temporary... what will the middleman do?"

"Let's try to translate that from 'Questionese' to the universal language of 'Make-sense-for-Booster'," the other man suggested.

Sighed, perhaps a little annoyed, the Question attempted to elaborate. "Ted stays because he needs and wants to. I want and need to step out. What will you do?"

Booster Gold considered, glancing upstairs. It seemed better, to him, that he shouldn't bother Beetle. Things were rough for all of them, but there was a silent agreement between him and the Question: Ted had the worst of everything.

And if Ted needed to be by himself for a little while, it should be fine.

"Wouldn't be bad to go fer a walk," Booster told him.

* * *

It was always difficult for Booster Gold to talk to the Question. They both had connections to Ted - though what precisely the Question had with Beetle he still wasn't sure about - but it didn't seem enough for either of them to really make efforts to talk to one another. Maybe it didn't matter, but Booster couldn't pester Ted. He couldn't bother him after all he'd been through, and Booster had no idea who else he could turn to about everything. 

It left him with the Question, but talking was so difficult when the Human Enigma liked to be confusing.

The silence was even worse.

Wherever they went, Booster wasn't sure. He'd just been following the Question, trying to think of what to talk about.

They eventually left the suburbian area to a staircase made of cement, built on the side of a broad and challenging hill that led to, what Booster assumed was, a park. While they climbed the stairs, Booster made his attempt.

"What should we do while we're here in Philadelphia, anyway?"

The Question shrugged. "Live."

"Wow, that is so elaborate, I don't know what to say."

A pause, and then the Question sighed. "Not sure. Do what we can. For ourselves. For Ted. Yes?"

"Yeah."

Another round of awkward silence, and it was the Question's turn to speak when he stopped in the middle of their stairway climb. "You want something." It was not, ironically, a question.

"Well..." Booster shrugged, biting his lip. "I dunno..."

"About Ted?" The Question turned to him. "Hard to talk to him when helping him. Helping him, but not helping yourself. Hard to balance the two. For the self, for others. Not... 'want', then. A need. Need. You need something." He thought on it, as if it as a troubling riddle.

"I can't talk to him. I mean... Ted's got enough problems, right?" Booster sighed. "I mean, you know. Being dead. Feeling like he can't talk to the JLA. The damned JLA, he can't even talk to, Question. He's pissed at them - so am I. And now we're stuck here, because we're supposed to be kept safe, right? Right. And..."

"Don't talk about Ted's problems. Yours is...?"

"Me?" Booster shook his head. "...I'm just pissed. I can't believe NO ONE listened to him. Nobody! And 'cuz of that, Ted... ...and I still have a hard time thinking that he actually died. What if I lost him forever, you know...? Maybe I would have lost it and things woulda turned out worse - sure. That's possible, but... I don't think I could have actually lived with it..."

"And...?"

"And..." Booster sighed, lowered his head, as in some way he could hide himself. "And... damn it, you know, would have anyone cared that I lost him? Batman, or Superman, or... no, probably not. There'd be 'bigger' things to worry about. That bothers me, too. Nobody would care. It'd just be another 'oh, that's too bad' moment. The feeling would be gone from them after an hour at most. Batman? Probably only a minute, **if **that. Nobody would have cared about what happened to Ted... or how I'd feel. I don't think they care right now, shoving us away like this. No one."

There was another moment of silence, and it was this time that Booster appreciated it. There was something odd about how his heart felt like it twisted. It wasn't as if it could be logically done by any organ unless it was some kind of illness; it was always the feeling made from an emotion. He felt horrible; he felt betrayed and forgotten by the JLA. By a lot of people. People he assumed as friends.

Assuming fucked a lot of things up.

Booster never had much time before to actually feel the grief that his best friend had died. Though now Ted was alive and he couldn't be more grateful to whatever was the cause of it - the scarab, fate, whatever - it still had an impact. He never had a moment to properly digest it. Anger, mostly, had taken place. Nothing else.

The Question finally told him, "Follow me. Philadelphia calls for two now."

Booster Gold lifted his head, uncertain, but followed the darker man up to the top of the stairs.

Once they finished their climb, it seemed as though the land had split into two different parts. To the left, he could see the black metal gates to a cemetary that suggested they had no business there - or at least he hoped. There was enough death in his life at the moment.

To their right, it was a tiny park. Benches. Flowers, mostly, preparing to wilt for the upcoming autumn. Leaves of the trees were already prepared to turn their colors.

"Look at both," the Question told him. "What could have been. Life or death." He turned to look at the cemetary. "Both in life, are life and death. The start, and the finish. How would you be prepared to accept either?"

"Okay, the Questionese thing again-"

"Think about his death," the Question told him bluntly. "Ted's death. Or maybe Sue. Michelle. Tora. Skeets, if you want. Any of them. That anger. That frustration. That betrayl. And most of all. That. Grief. Accept it, or don't accept it, Michael."

"I..." Booster hesitated, turning his head aside. "But he's alive, why-?"

"Because it happened. There's never a pause to accept it in this world much. 'Oh yes, Superman has died again, how quaint.' 'Oh, the JLA are dead, what else is new?'" The Question narrowed his eyes. "Death. Not so simple. Not so light. Dark. But... part of life. Don't ignore it. Accept, but don't dwell. Or ignore."

It wasn't something he wanted to dwell on - but had he been ignoring it?

"You've been dreaming about it," the Question commented quietly. "You don't sleep well. I watched."

Stupid jerk was...

But it as true. Stupid subconscious.

Booster bit his lip and turned around, looking down the steps with uncertainty. He didn't like to think about it. Honestly, he was an optimist in spite of it all, but-

Ted had died. But Ted was alive.

Death and life - had he ever had a moment to think on it? Maybe not.

Maybe the passing of everyone was catching up to him after all.

Booster lost the strength in his legs to continued to stand; he left his knees scrape against the cement and he struggled with himself. Grief, yes, that was part a little mourning, a little mourning was **okay **wasn't it? But it didn't mean he had to-

It'd been too late when he started to feel himself choke up.

Kneeling down in front of him, the Question told him quietly, "An expression is not a crime, but celebration."

Booster would have liked to have told him that he was being confusing again, but he said nothing. Reaching out - maybe in some desperation - he grabbed onto the front of the Question's jacket, burying his face against the detective's coat. In some way, maybe to hide himself.

It wasn't an awkward silence, as Booster couldn't keep his cries, however small, quiet. But it was a moment where the Question looked down, having a sense of deja vu, unsure of what he should be doing.

"Dumb **jerk**," Booster could barely manage out. "You're supposed to be **comforting **me..."

"Ah...?" The Question still sounded unsure.

Maybe even, heaven forbid, confused.

But when he felt one uncertain arm place itself around his shoulders, Booster figured it ought to do.

The former blonde didn't feel at all ashamed for holding on, and he was fortunate enough that the Question didn't feel like pulling away. At least, not yet.

He felt the Human Enigma tense up suddenly.

"We should go," the Question told him quietly, voice almost trembling.

Booster looked up, confused.

"Better... if we're back at the house," he told him. It didn't seem as though being forced to comfort Booster was bothering him; his eyes were locked on elsewhere, narrowed.

If Booster Gold didn't know any better, he'd have to say that the Question was worried about something. Lifting his head and looking over his shoulder, though, Booster saw nothing.

The Question took his wrist, taking him back to his feet. "Home, now," he told him quietly. "...You. Do you feel better?"

"Huh? ...Yeah, sure. Just... kind of abrupt."

"Sorry," the Question murmured.

Booster could tell he was genuine in the apology.

Still, it seemed that the Question wasn't too crazy to keep from being something like... maybe a friend. Booster wasn't sure yet, but it was heck of a lot more comforting.

He followed the detective home.

_

* * *

"He'd want you to celebrate life."_

The Question had arrived home with Booster; the former, however, had waited until the man from the future was settled and distracted by something before turning and swiftly finding his fedora to leave.

He had business to take care of, without Blue and Gold's help. He couldn't possibly risk their lives.

_Step, step, step, and was approaching._

Step. Step. Step.

The Question left behind his mask, not willing to risk any sightings by Checkmate. He was smarter than that.

But he had someone to take care of.

Psychopomp was only a being of chi now, much like Ted had been until recently. Unlike Ted in the fact that he was still strong and capable as nothing but a spirit. Taking other bodies. Taking, temporarily, after shoving out their soul. The Question was figuring out how.

And why.

"I **See **you," he murmured.

Looking. **Seeing**. The truth, where he was, where Psychopomp was down in the dark, filth of an alleyway.

The Question approached, and so did common men. Common scum, crawling out of their dumpsters, knives and lead pipes and chains in their hands, thinking they could attack him, kill him, mug him, maim him.

It was almost amusing. It was sad, mostly.

Leaping and laughing, so confident, they began the battle.

Moving swiftly, the Question slammed his foot against the neck of one of them, snapping it effeciently. Reaching into his pocket, he curled gloved fingers around the broken watch he kept with him. Turning and avoiding a swing of a pipe, he pulled out the wire of the watch, throwing it around the thug's neck, tightening, strangling him, using him as a shield to the knives and bullets meant for the Question.

Dropping the dead man, the Human Enigma pulled out the fork, stabbing it into a throat. Throwing him to the ground, the Question slammed the heel of his shoe against the handle of the fork, making it go in deeper. Ending the life. Snuffing it own.

Bleed it out.

The Question felt a knife pointed threateningly against his neck; he did not hesitate. Taking out the twisted paperclips, he peered up at the man with the knife.

He stabbed the binded little paperclips into his eye, throwing him off.

_**"Give me what I deserve, Question."**_

_Step, step, step, and was approaching-_

_"Hey there." Vic Sage was startled to see someone else. Nobody else cared. What brought him, of all people?_

_"Do you mind?" Vic shook his head._

_A smile. A smile, for him. Nobody smiled at Vic Sage._

_"Thanks, I-"_

**"Get out of my head!" the Question snarled.**

He felt a blow to the back of his head, causing him to be disorientated. The Question's wrist was grabbed, and an elbow slammed into his sternum, pinning him against the grease-slicked brick wall.

**Seeing**, the Question narrowed his eyes. "Psychopomp."

"Hello again. You keep your mind very well locked. It's that one thing that's keeping me out, that one thing you think about so much..."

"You. You want to possess my body by forcing me out." The Question eyed at him. "It won't work."

"No. No, not normally. I'll have to devour your soul to do that."

Psychopomp smiled.

The Question reached into his shoe, a toothpick held between two fingers. Bringing it around, he stabbed it into the man's jugular vein.

It didn't kill him immediately, which allowed Psychopomp to leave the body, letting it go limp.

Turning, the Question could **See **him still remaining, reaching out, grabbing onto the Human Enigma's head-

_"Look, you don't have to blame yourself. I know he's gone. I know that. But... you shouldn't think of his funeral as death. It's more like a celebration of life. Right? Maybe not his... but maybe yours? He'd want you to-"_

There was a scream of pain, and the Question was positive it was his own. Tearing away, he threw his chi out, striking out at Psychopomp before he turned away.

**"You cannot run from me."**

The Question tried anyway.

**"You know how strong you are. And how, how I can use that to my advantage."**

The Question stopped running, finding himself leaning against a lamppost, holding his head.

**"I simply need to break through what's left of you now."**

The Question could hear him talking, feel him reaching and clawing and scratching-

**"A little thing like a memory can't fight me off for long. You and yours alone isn't enough."**

The Question could only run. Run and fight, run and fight, fight or flight-

**"I'm close, and getting closer."**

He felt compassion before. He felt concern before. Things a faceless man thought he had lost.

Now he felt fear.

* * *

It was coming close to eleven o' clock at night the moment when Booster Gold heard the front door open and immediately slam shut. Glancing away from the television screen, he saw the Question leaning against the door, holding his face, breathing heavily. 

"Question...?" Booster asked hesitantly.

"Here. Here, coming here, have to..." The Question stepped away, his walk in a stumble. "Away, get..."

"H-hey!" Leaping to his feet, Booster went to the Question's side, catching him before he fell to the floor. "What the hell happened?"

The Human Enigma mumbled, "Tearing, creeping - can't let him... have to end it now..."

"TED!" Booster shouted for the inventor, taking the Question towards the sofa. "Jeez, you're sweating up a storm..." Idly, he checked for a fever; much to his surprise, there wasn't one.

The Question turned his head away. "I **See **him, I **See **- he's... have to perish, have to..."

"Who? Please, **please **try to make sense!"

Reaching up, grabbing onto Booster's shoulders, the Question stared at him intently, body trembling. "Kill me. End me. Now."

There was unspeakable terror in Booster's eyes, wondering and hoping he heard him wrong.

"What's going on **now**?" Ted grumbled as he came down the stairs. When he came to a stop at the edge of the living room, he frowned. "What happened?"

"I don't **know**." Booster glanced from Ted to the raving Question, uncertain of what to do.

The Question turned his head, looking at the inventor. "Have to die, have to now. Have to **do it **or he'll take me. Please, please-"

"What's he talking about!" Ted turned to Booster, who could only shake his head desperately.

"I said I don't know! He's crazier than usual-"

There was a sharp scream from the detective, retracting his hands and curling his fingers into his hair. "Stay away! Not yours-!" There was a sudden stiffness his body, yet he trembled, shortly before his arms went limp and his eyes shut closed.

"Oh God, is he-!" Booster hesitated.

Ted moved in quickly, fingers to the side of the Question's neck. "He's alive, but... I have no idea what happened."

Silence gnawed at them before Booster suggested shakingly, "What if it was something neither of us could normally see...?"

"Excuse me?" Ted peered at him.

"I mean. You know. That... flung choo Question does..."

"Feng shui," the brunet corrected.

"Whatever!" Booster threw up his hands. "What if it was something to do with that!"

Ted frowned. "How likely is that-"

"I don't know! But we couldn't see it. What if it was some dead guy who was pissed with him? I mean, the Question's killed people before..."

Opening his mouth, Ted quickly shut it. Maybe. Maybe it was. "Even if..."

"Look. Look, he was teaching you some of that stuff, right? Can you do anything?"

"I..." Ted hesitated. "Maybe. Look, Booster, we don't even know if that was what it was..."

"We don't know **anything**! That's my point! This was something he knew, so what else is there?"

"Maybe it..." Ted trailed off, then narrowed his eyes at Booster. It was **that look** that Booster was good at.

**That look.**

"I don't wanna do this," Ted told him. Booster didn't waver **the look**. "I don't. I like being a very normal guy. Maybe a guy who was dead, but I like the normal part. Even if I shoot lightning with my hands and could lift a truck without a problem and fly - I like being normal. I hate this magic gimmick. I don't like it one bit and I don't want to do it."

"So... will you try that frank sway?"

"Feng shui," Ted corrected again. "And yeah, okay..."

The brunet sat himself down by the sofa, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath. Frankly, he only had one lesson for the day. How could he possibly be capable of doing anything to help the Question?

Still, after everything the Human Enigma had done for both of them, Ted couldn't possibly back down.

The first step was retreating **Inside**, pulling back into what the Question had called his essence. Made sense enough.

That feeling of being centered, letting the worries be dropped. The anger he carried, the frustration, concern-

Center.

Upon opening his eyes, he could **See**-

A man was standing over the Question, his hands digging into the faceless man's head. Ted **Saw **that the Question was in agony, twisting and unable to even scream.

"Holy shit, who the hell-?" Ted was taken aback. So it was someone who was dead. But why... and who was he?

"What is it?" Booster tried to turn his head and see the man, too.

"Someone's... hell, I don't know what he's doing to Question," Ted admitted. "Something to his chi."

Booster frowned. "So...? What should we do?"

"I..." Ted sighed. "Look, I hardly even know what I'm doing with all of this."

"That's more than me, and we gotta do something for him! That's all that matters!"

That was definitely something Ted agreed with.

The inventor frowned. "The Question can go **Inside **for meditation. But he can go out, too. Out of his body... I guess... maybe, I could do that..."

"Is it dangerous?"

"I have no idea," Ted said, clueless. "But it's worth a shot, right?" He watched Booster, and could tell that he was concerned, biting his lip. Not that Ted could blame him for being worried; the Question, who had come through for both of them, was probably in a lot of trouble with neither of them really knowing how they could help. Ted was going to attempt something without too much of a clue of how he was doing it, against an unknown opponent. If anything, the worst thing was going to be leaving Booster by his lonesome. Still, Ted had to try to promise... "I'm not gonna disappear anytime soon, I promise. And the Question's too stupidly lucky to get killed now."

"Yeah, that part's true," Booster agreed. "You promise to be okay?"

"Definitely."

"Good. Okay..." Booster stepped back, sitting in a chair uneasily. "Um... go for it."

Ted rolled his eyes a little. "Love the support."

"I'm not gonna go out of my way for pompoms and a rhyme for you. Go and save Question's ass."

It'd been a first for awhile, but Ted couldn't help but smile a little.

He went back **Inside**.

He was still clueless. How was he supposed to force himself out?

Frowning, Ted thought about it. How he felt when he was dead... it was something like that, he supposed. He'd been able to follow Question anywhere then. Not a whole lot, but he could step through anywhere, **See **things he could.

Center, center.

Ted could **See **the Question in writhing pain, helpless.

He never remembered the faceless man being helpless before. Even close to death on so many occasions, never did he see him like this.

**He reached out, out from his body, out to him.**

**"You want to stop me?" the man seemed amused, digging his fingers, somehow seeping his being into the Question's living body.**

**"Who the hell are YOU?" Ted peered at him.**

**"I've gotten used to Psychopomp."**

**Ted rolled his eyes. "That's, like... one of the most ridiculous names I've heard since 'Ocean Master'."**

**"Charming. What do you intend to do, little bug?" Psychopomp had a twisted, amused smile on his face, and there was definitely something empty about him that bothered Ted.**

**It was then that the Question suddenly moved, reaching out for Ted's wrist. "Unsafe," he hissed at him.**

**"What else was I supposed to do?" Ted snapped at him.**

**The Question hesitated, then scowled. "...Help me..." he pleaded quietly.**

**Pulling on Ted's arm suddenly, the inventor suddenly found himself pulled into the Human Enigma's very chi, feeling, hearing, Seeing-**

_"He'd want you to celebrate life."_

Ted raised a brow. That voice had been-

The brunet found himself on a snowy path, and he was quite positive it wasn't real... even though it felt like reality. The sky was pitch black. Endless. A pit.

Somehow, he wasn't surprised to find towering formations of question marks strewn about.

Turning, he saw that the Question was lying on the ground in front of him.

"Hey! HEY! Question!" Ted hurried to his side, kneeling down. "Question...?"

"Not strong... not as strong as I thought I was..." The Question sat up slowly, looking at him. He had no face, as Ted was more used to. "This is... me. My mind. Inside. My Inside."

"And what the hell am I supposed to do?"

Question turned his head, pointing. There was a stone staircase, leading up somewhere into the endless sky. "Have to get to the center... my last blockade. See it... if you remember, maybe..."

"Maybe? Remember? ...As usual, you have me confused." Ted shrugged. "So... I go up there, and then...?"

"...If you remember, get to the center, I... have to fight..." The Question turned his head to the side.

Ted frowned a little, then nodded. "Hey. It's my turn to help, right?" Turning, he looked up the steps with a shrug before taking off.

**

* * *

Notes:**

ARGH. SO LONG.

And somehow, the last scene feels... lame. Is it just me?


	9. Snow's Biting Search for the Eagle Eye

**Disclaimers and Useless/Useful Stuff to Know:  
**Don't own any of these characters. Never will. Wish I did. Major spoilers for "Countdown to Infinite Crisis". Good idea to read the comic first. Also, spoilers for the Question six-issue miniseries.

Also, Kiffie rocks. She's helped on a few things during the course of this story. As a matter of fact, you all rock, with your reviews and pretty pikshures. THANK YOU. EVERYONE.

**

* * *

Warning: The Pool is Contaminated**

by Alba Aulbath

* * *

The stairs seemed to go on forever, into the dark and into the depths of what Ted was sure was Vic's mind and very being. It felt cold, and somehow... Ted felt incredibly alone, even if he was in someone's head. 

He wasn't sure how, but he did.

Snow was drifting by, landing on him and not melting. It crunched under his feet as he climbed the stairs, gazing around him. It was all a wide void, including him and the stairs and snow most of the way in; there were the occasional scenes that seemed to suddenly play out at either side of the stairs as he climbed. Ted assumed they were memories.

_"I couldn't tell what was real, you bastard! I couldn't tell what was real..."_

Ted couldn't keep his eyes off of the scene, what he assumed to be a young Vic Sage slamming his fist into someone else's face. The violence was familiar, the moment was not.

"I can't believe he had a mullet," Ted mused to himself.

Nothing answered him. He almost felt dead again.

Continuing up the stairs, he saw things he was not particularly familiar with in his own crimefighting days. Death, horrors, filth, the rotting streets of Hub City. What tied the Question to the place? What kept him there? Dedication? Stubborness?

The snow was coming down faster, colder. Ted winced and continued on his way, glancing aside towards the temporary images, the constructs of question marks that were formed occasionally.

To his left, there was a giant statue of the symbollic woman of Justice, blindfolded and carrying a scale.

It was broken in several places, sinking into the black void.

Ted appeared to reach the top, finding himself at black rusty gates, the tops twisted into the shape of question marks.

"Great. I can't even get in," Ted grumbled, pushing at the stubborn gates.

However, he began to see why. Looking through the bars, he could see a cemetary, snow drifting down.

This looked familiar.

"Hmm...?" The brunet squinted and watched. Was this a memory? But this was Vic's mind; why would a memory of Ted's be here?

_The snow continued to drift down. There was a casket at a grave, marked "Aristotle Rodor". There was no one there, but a lone man, sitting up against the casket. His knees had pulled up against his body, head bowed down. He was trembling. Cold, and maybe some grief._

"Rodor..." Ted folded his arms. "I remember-"

He decided to be silent, simply watching.

_There were steps heard, crunching through the snow. Whoever was approaching..._

_The man shivered, lifting his head. It was no surprise, it was Vic Sage._

_Step, step, step, and was approaching._

_Vic Sage lifted his head, watching the snow, letting it land onto his face._

_"Hey there."_

_Vic Sage turned his head, surprise coming to his face. Vic Sage was startled to see someone else. Nobody else cared. What brought him, of all people?_

_"Sorry. Do you mind?" Vic Sage shook his head, silent still. "Okay. Thanks. I..." There was a smile. A smile. A smile, for him. Nobody smiled at Vic Sage. "I mean... it's just... well, I didn't know Doc Rodor that well - I met 'im a few times because of my college professor, Doc Garret."_

"Dan...? So this is-"

_"Dan Garret," Vic Sage murmured._

_"Oh, you knew 'im too?"_

_"Not really." Vic Sage turned his head away. "Not really..."_

_"But you knew Doc Rodor."_

_Vic Sage nodded. "We were... very good friends..." His face fell. "Hub City. He lived there with me. Died, because... of me..."_

Gunshots. He looked around, frowning.

_Vic Sage winced._

_"I heard," was admitted. "Well..." Sat down beside Vic Sage. "I don't think it was your fault. And he probably doesn't either. Not that I knew him, but if he was friends with Doc Garret and was anything like him, I doubt it, y'know?"_

_"...Mm..." Vic Sage nodded, but was not entirely convinced._

_"I know he died. But... Look, you don't have to blame yourself. I know he's gone. I know that. But... you shouldn't think of his funeral as death. It's more like a celebration of life. Right? Maybe not his... but maybe yours? He'd want you to..." Thought on it, trying to find the right words. "Yeah, I guess... He'd want you to celebrate life. Not his death. Right?"_

_Vic Sage looked at him quietly, intently._

_"Uh... did that make sense...?"_

_"Yes," Vic Sage whispered._

_"Oh, good. I think I confused myself. Well..." Standing up, brushed off snow. "Hey. I don't see any flowers. Did you...?"_

_Vic Sage smiled bitterly. "Couldn't afford it."_

_"Oh! Well. Here. It'd probably mean a lot more from you than me, right?" The flowers were offered. "Okay?"_

_"I..."_

_"It's all right," was assured._

_Vic Sage lowered his head, reluctantly accepted them. "Okay... ...thank you...? Thank you."_

_"No problem." A hand was offered. "I'm Ted."_

"Oh hell..."

_"I know," Vic Sage said, amused. "I know." Hesitantly, he accepted the hand. "Ted Kord... KORD, Inc. Kordtronics. I know."_

_"Oh." He grinned. "And you are...?"_

_"...Good question..." Vic Sage glanced aside._

_Ted Kord glanced at his watch. "Shoot, I have to go. Look... are you gonna be okay?"_

_"A better chance than before."_

_"I'll take that as a compliment." Ted Kord smirked. "It'll be okay. It's not the end of the world. I'm sure people are still looking out for you."_

_"...I know they are," Vic Sage mused, watching him._

_Ted Kord nodded. "Later." He turned and walked towards the gates_ and disappeared.

_"Thank you, Beetle."_

Ted Kord had no idea what to say other than, "I'm such an idiot..."

It hadn't been that he had forgotten a little funeral. Ted had gone out of his way to go, mostly because Doc Garret wouldn't have been able to attend. He remembered meeting someone there, he honestly did.

Just not who.

"Should have figured..."

The gates unlocked themselves, opening slowly, creaking as rust grated against rust.

Ted frowned, looking towards the cemetary. There were stairs that continued on, towards the other side of the scenary.

Was this why Vic had been so determined to help him? Because of a few words at a funeral...

Vic had known who he was. He had known for some years, Ted was aware of that. It had never been the other way around until he died, though - which was why Ted had been so ignorant then and now of his identity.

He felt like such a jerk; it had been so important to Vic, obviously.

Ted would have to go and apologize. Finding him was key, though.

Blue Beetle hurried towards the next staircase.

* * *

It was dark, as it always had been in his mind. It was a void with a few pieces scattered, with what little of his mind left he could keep connected, to memories and thoughts and logic and illogic. Separation. 

The Question felt another fist to his face.

There were moments, brief moments, they were remembered and he remembered why. Just exactly why he was what they claimed. Delusional. Crazy. Mad. All wrong - no, he was the most sane of them all. He knew such truths of the unkind world of man, monster, mutant, demon, alien, **God**. All things, gone in an instant, gone.

The Question's ribs cracked.

All different ways, taken from him. Death, life, unfortunate events. Never loving parents, never Lois - no more Myra, Tot, and...

The Question was thrown across the floor.

There had been no more Ted, for awhile. But he was alive.

The Question's ankle was twisted when he tried to kick.

For awhile.

The Question's arm was pulled out its socket.

Not for long, not long until it was dictated that he would be taken again. Killed, forced away, somehow. Just somehow. Like the rest of them.

The Question felt his throat grabbed by a strong hand, stronger than his own. He stared at Psychopomp.

"So you know, then."

The Question did not respond.

* * *

Ted had gradually found himself at the top of the second staircase, a rotting wooden archway twisting over in cruel greeting. Glancing around cautiously, he found it difficult to see beyond a few inches in front of himself; the entire area with thick with yellow mist, rather reminiscent of the Question's bonding gas. Stepping through cautiously, unsure of there was still a platform to step on, he found himself grateful for every time his foot met with something solid. 

As he continued on, the mist seemed to lighten; in front of him was another archway made of stone, crumbling and falling apart with dead vines clinging around the columns. Ahead was a wide platform, built in almost like a traditional gladiator's arena, only that too seemed to be worn down with age.

Only, this was the Question's mind. So was it due to age, or lack of sanity? Or maybe because whoever this man was, it was wearing down on him quickly.

Nearing the stone archway, he could see the same man battling the Question; it was a magnificent battle, if one ignored the fact that it was threatening the Human Enigma's life. The way the two attacked each other with such precisition and full-out determination was a bit admiring, ignoring the fact that they were out for each other's blood.

The Question was losing, though. Ted could tell; he was struck back, and Blue Beetle could swear he heard bone cracking from each hit, stronger than the next.

Ted stepped forward, but found himself thrown back by an unseen forced in the stone archway.

"Oh give me a break!" he growled, standing up and slamming a fist against the forcefield. What was keeping him out now?

He winced, watching the Question's arm forced out of its socket.

The faceless man was weakening, limp as he was picked up by his foe at the throat.

"Vic! HEY!" Stubbornly, Ted slammed his fists against the invisible barrier. It did not budge. "God damn it- **Vic**!"

* * *

"You're going to lose," Psychopomp told him. 

The Question's hand - the one still working for him - clenched into a tight fist. "Rather die first..." he managed out, his voice weaker than he would have liked.

"Unfortunately, I can't have that."

The Question threw his fist into Psychopomp's face, managing to free himself for a brief moment. "Won't lose," he growled, slamming his shoulder into the shaman, knocking him away - however, the Human Enigma's foe slammed the heel of his foot into the Question's jaw before pinning him against the floor with his knee.

"You will. You're the only one here I have to worry about." Psychopomp was taunting him. Question hated it. "You've been alone, from what I've seen. How unfortunate."

Alone. All alone, all the time -

It made him vulnerable.

"...Beetle... he's in here, too, he..."

Psychopomp eyed him. "Could he really come for you, that little bug?"

The Question kept silent.

* * *

"Vic!" His fists sparked with lightning as he continued to attempt to knock the barrier down. "You moron, I'm right here! VIC!" 

The Question couldn't see him? Or anything? Ted gritted his teeth. This was ridiculous!

Ted shouted, trying to be heard, "You're not alone! You're **not**!"

* * *

"You're all alone. And you should really give in - do you really want to die now, Question? It's not yet your time. Not now." 

The Question hesitated.

_You're not alone! You're **not!**_

He turned his head, looking towards the archway.

"Am I...?" the Question murmured.

He was so used to doing things on his own. It was easier, it was-

It wasn't better. It wasn't easier. It wasn't much of anything, but him and the dark streets and just himself. Just a Question. Eternally a Question.

Not alone...?

_I'm. Right. HERE!_

"Are you ready to give in, yet?"

The Question had lost.

He had lost, because he was on his own.

"...Not... yet..." the Question growled. "Not yet..."

"It's only you, and you've fallen. Give in, give me what I deserve."

"Not yet..." the faceless man muttered stubbornly.

He was not alone.

The Question called out.

"**Ted**!"

* * *

The barrier finally broke away, and Ted stumbled forward, a bit surprised. Finally! Narrowing his eyes, he found himself flying forward, lightning sparking around his arms. As he approached the arena quickly, he noticed that it was starting to crumble under both the Question and his foe pinning him down. 

"Hey! Casper the Apalling Ghost!" Blue Beetle snapped, bringing out his arm. Electricity ignited from his fist, blasting the man away from the Human Enigma. This was enough, apparently, for Psychopomp to disappear into the void with a frustrated yell.

The arena collapsed, falling towards the darkness below.

Cursing to himself, Ted took a dive towards the Question as the faceless man began his fall. "Vic!" The brunet reached out towards him.

He was grateful that the Question was prepared enough; the no-faced vigilante grabbed onto Ted's hand, letting him lift and carry both of them back towards the archway where it still managed to stand.

Beetle let out a heavy sigh, holding his head after he let go of the Question. Then he turned to look at him sharply, holding up his index finger, "Moron! Stupid! Idiot! Imbecile! ... I'm so glad you're alive! Don't scare me like that again or I... uh... argh, I dunno!"

"Ah..." The Question tilted his head. "...Ted...? Thank you..."

Ted would have liked to have stayed frustrated and angry at him, but somehow, he couldn't. Instead, he grinned faintly. "You're absolutely welcome, you annoying bastard." He turned around, looking down the stairs. "So... I saw what happened. What was that, four years ago?"

"Mmm."

"I didn't know it was you," Ted admitted. "I really didn't. I'm sorry."

The Question shook his head. "Not sorry. Don't be. Didn't expect you to know it was me. Had a face then."

"You still do, in your own little nutty way, you know. You are who you are." Ted shrugged at him. "Okay? Maybe you might be confused about yourself, but... you're still you. I mean, I'm kind of... confused about myself, too. This new powers thing is weird to me. But I'm still Ted Kord, y'know?"

"Hm."

"That... doesn't really change your mind, does it?" Ted raised a brow at him.

The Question lowered his head. "...It's difficult..."

"No, I. I understand that. It's hard, after all you've been through. But you're still you. You can be the Question and Vic Sage, you know."

"Maybe..."

Ted nodded. "Right. Well... honestly, I'd love to chat more about it, but. What about that crazy guy who was attacking you? Psychopomp, right?"

"Not in my head anymore," the Question told him. "...You helped drive him out. I... I had to admit. That. I was not alone. Used to it, but not. Not right now."

"Hey. You don't have to be. You're kinda crazy, but. You've been really helpful. Booster and I really owe you."

"No." The Question turned to face him. "No, you don't. ... I owed you. Let's... be even now?"

Ted smiled. "Sounds good to me. Now, just do me a favor and tell me how to get out of your head. It's kinda creepy."

Nodding, the faceless man motioned down the stairs. "Follow me. I'll guide you out."

"And, uh. You'll be okay now, right?"

The Question paused, then nodded. "I will be," he assured quietly. "Just need to step out and finish him for good."

"Can you do that on your own?" Ted peered at him.

"Maybe."

"That a yes or a no, Vic?"

The faceless vigilante considered. "...Perhaps... I should use the help, but... you aren't familiar enough to-"

"Blah blah blah, I don't care, just let me help you," Ted told him.

There was a crease around the brow area of the man's faceless face, suggesting an unamused scowl. However, he replied with, "All right... Down here, there is a pathway out. Walk through it, and you'll still be out of your body temporarily. We'll have to make it quick; you're not used to stepping out."

"What exactly are we going to be doing?"

"You have to attack him. I'll condemn him." The Question's brow area narrowed.

"Right, this condemning thing? That's bad, right?" Ted frowned.

The Question shrugged. "Damn him for all eternity, to repeat his unfortunate death."

"Uh-huh. Is there any other way around this? I don't feel that great condemning someone to anything. I know this Psychopulp or whatever isn't the cheeriest soul around, but damning someone isn't really my thing."

The faceless man glanced away, walking down the steps with the brunet following him. "...Could... make him move on. Could..."

"Move on? Like, he won't be around to pester us anymore?" Ted asked.

"Essentially... Too good of a fate for him," the Question remarked.

"Look, when a guy's dead, he should just move on."

There was a pause, and Ted was positive that the Question did not like this suggestion. However, he eventually replied in a low voice, "Very well."

To himself, Ted smirked a little.

The pair continued their way down the stairs; there was a new path that the inventor had no seen before, cutting away from the snowy cemetary down below them. It was a stone path, leading away to a blindingly bright gateway at the very end. The Question turned to Ted, telling him, "That way. I'll be right behind you. Keep Psychopomp busy; I'll do the rest."

"Okay. Not damning his soul, right?" Ted eyed him.

"No. I won't."

"Okay then." Ted nodded. "Guess I'll see you on the other side?"

The Question nodded to him. "You will. ... Promise."

"Works for me," Blue Beetle agreed.

Hesitantly, Ted walked down the path towards the gateway waiting for him.

The bright light had taken him back to the living room, standing just in front of the couch where the Question was laying. He could see that Booster had curled up in one of the chairs, holding his face; Ted frowned, worried. However, Ted turned, immediately finding himself face to face with Psychopomp.

The shaman snarled at him, "Little bug."

"Oh damn-" Ted was cut off as Psychopomp slammed a fist into his abdomen, knocking him through the wall - which wasn't difficult, considering that their forms were currently intangible to the physical plane of existence.

Blue Beetle shook his head, clearing it enough to dodge away from another strike by Psychopomp. "Hey, don't be pissed at me - it's not like Vic wanted you in his head, anyway!"

"Without the Psychopomp, who will guide the souls to Heaven and Hell?" the shaman growled.

"Wow, I almost missed how delusional you supervillains were," Ted muttered, ducking away from a sharp kick.

As the brunet avoided the strikes from Psychopomp, he could hear the Question whispering, voice hissing in such a dark, twisted way that even though he was out of his body he swore he could feel shivers.

"_O Heavenly King, Comforter, Spirit of Truth, Who art everywhere present and fillest all things_..." The Question approached through the wall, faceless face in Psychopomp's direction; the shaman could only stare. "_Treasury of good things and Giver of life: Come and dwell in us, and cleanse us of all impurity_..." Psychopomp let out a frustrated yell, raising a fist to attempt to strike Ted. "..._and save our souls, O Good One_."

Unable to fully bring his fist to Blue Beetle, Psychopomp stumbled back before letting out an angered yell; his chi lost its humanoid appearance, drifting away towards the sky, formless and somehow much more free.

"Are you sure that he's... you know, moved on and such?" Ted stared up where Psychopomp disappeared to. "And... where did he go?"

"He's gone... The prayer was a bit of a typical morning one. Chinese. As for where he is... good question." The Question shrugged at him. "Won't know 'til we all move on after death. You... you clung on. ... Rightfully so."

Turning towards him, Ted smirked softly. "We're all a little stubborn. So... do I just walk back to my body?"

The Question nodded. "Yes. Go **Inside**. Go in, and center. You'll awaken... with a migrane, most likely."

"Lookin' forward to it," Ted grumbled.

Stepping towards his body, he slowly stepped in, concentrating.

* * *

The moment that Ted had done the femmy shang thingamajig, Booster Gold had found himself at a loss. Against the wall in one corner, Ted was sitting with his eyes closed, breathing clearly but not ... there. That was frightening enough for Booster; on the couch was the Question, laying with his face somehow locked in a painful frown. Both of them were worrying the hell out of Booster. 

It was frustrating; one moment after the other, all three of them were somehow fated to be in some kind of distress. Was this another Checkmate thing? Were Ted and Question in danger?

What had shaken him so badly was the Question pleading Booster to kill him. What had frightened him, of all people? Could the Question **get **scared?

Apparently so.

It was enough to scare Booster right back; the detective was crazy and all, but he was a decent guy. Booster knew that; he had helped both Ted and himself, willingly risking his own life.

Maybe there had been something that threatened them badly that the Question had to die...?

No. No no, that was just unacceptable.

Booster Gold had eventually sat himself down in one of the chairs by the couch, sick of pacing in the room, waiting. How slow was this going to be?

It agonized him; would he end up losing both Ted and the Question? Literally, they were all he had left. After everyone else had died, after the rest of the superhero community just decided that Beetle was not worth their time, Booster didn't have a whole lot. And that was fine; he was glad to have Ted in his life. Question? A bonus. He was nuts, but a good man.

Sighing, he held his face. It was stupid. He already cried once, and grown men... just don't cry.

Do they?

He waited, shaking and frightened.

How long it had been... Booster wasn't sure. But when he heard Ted groan out, "Ugh, my fucking head..." he felt incredible relief.

"Ted!" Booster leapt to his feet, hurrying to his friend and grabbing his shoulders. "Are you okay? What about Question? What happened!"

"One at a time, please for the love of my aching head," Ted mumbled, rubbing his forehead.

"Fine," the Question called out. "Both are fine."

Standing up from Ted, Booster turned and immediately rushed over to the detective. Without another word, he had wrapped his arms around the Question's abdomen, hugging him tightly. The Question's reaction was expected; he was stiff, unsure how to respond. His head turned, expression helpless as he looked at Ted.

However, as the brunet stood and approached, he shook his head. "Nuh-uh. You're on yer own with this, Vic."

"Well, excuse me if I'm glad you're okay," Booster grumbled. "Both of you."

The Question seemed even more confused. "...You... are?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Hm." The Human Enigma nodded. "Thank you... thank you, Michael."

Booster shrugged, sitting up and glancing between both the Question and Ted. "What the hell happened, anyway?"

"Well, uh... um... look, you tell him. I have a killer headache. I think I'll see if there's some painkillers somewhere in this place..." Ted turned and walked for a bathroom.

The Question tilted his head, watching the inventor go before looking back to Booster. "...Someone I fought, some years ago. Used the name Psychopomp. Died, years ago. But his soul was still around. Could push other souls out of their bodies to possess them. He wanted mine. Which was why I asked you to..."

"About that." Booster narrowed his eyes, holding up his index finger. "You aren't gonna ask me or Ted to ever do that to you, got it?"

"I..."

"Okay? **Okay?**" Booster stared at him sternly. "We're just not going to, and that's that! It's not an option for any of us."

The Question watched him, then slowly nodded. "...All right."

"Good. Okay... so what else happened?"

"...Ted **Saw **what was going on. I guided him into my mind to fight off Psychopomp. After he helped drive him out, I had Psychopomp move on." Question frowned to himself. "...Damnation was better suiting, but. Ted said no."

Booster shrugged. "But he's out of our skins for good, right?"

"Mmm."

"Okay. Then I can't complain. Just... God, don't scare us like that again, okay? That really freaked me out."

"I didn't intend to..." The Question shook his head. "...I ... am sorry? Sorry."

"It's all right. Look, I know we really haven't known each other and I think you're really nuts, but... you've helped Ted and me. So I'm really grateful. I don't wanna see you end up dead, okay?"

This caused the detective to look puzzled, frowning as he absorbed this information. Slowly, he nodded. "...Okay."

Booster seemed pleased with the response, grinning. "Good. I'm totally through with freaking out tonight, so... I'm gonna get some sleep. But..."

"Yes?" Question watched him.

He frowned, not really sure how to voice it.

But Booster managed.

* * *

By the time Ted had returned, after taking some well deserved aspirin, the headache was slowly going away. Not fast enough. He probably should have asked the Question for some of the reiki he could perform, but considering all that both of them had gone through inside the detective's mind? Ted didn't figure he ought to pester him. 

Turning to step into the living room, Ted had discovered the Question fast asleep on the couch. Well, he supposed the entire thing that happened would have been very draining, aside from the fact that apparently the Human Enigma was always trying very hard to keep from sleep. A workaholic that could compete with the Dark Knight.

What had been a little more surprising was Booster Gold sitting up against the couch, curled up and stubbornly sleeping by the Question.

Ted considered.

He got himself a blanket, sat down beside Booster, and decided sleep was indeed in order.

**

* * *

Notes**: 

Shorter than the previous chapters, but hey. Whaddaya gonna do, BITCH?


	10. Sky Garden's Fabricated Strawberries

**Disclaimers and Useless/Useful Stuff to Know:  
**Don't own any of these characters. Never will. Wish I did. Major spoilers for "Countdown to Infinite Crisis". Good idea to read the comic first. Also, spoilers for the Question six-issue miniseries.

Much kudos to Kiffie with some of the scene ideas. The chapter seems a little... plotless, but hopefully the series of events are amusing.

**

* * *

Warning: The Pool is Contaminated**

by Alba Aulbath

* * *

It seemed as though, as much as he would have liked to have stayed inside, it was not something that Ted was capable of all the time. Though he did go outside due to the Question's insistence to train himself into controlling himself and his powers - his emotions had a bit of an effect to breaking something without his meaning to. 

It was about five days after the Psychopomp crisis had been taken care of. Vic had been looking more and more tired than usual, but sad nothing about it. This concerned both Blue Beetle and Booster Gold, yet the Question refused to have anyone worry about him.

This day, Vic slept in. Which was definitely not normal.

This led to Ted reluctantly stepping outside instead of just waking up the Question.

The day after they moved in, they immediately had found their roles in the house. Ted? Stayed inside. He read a lot. He slept a lot. Ate sometimes, watched TV sometimes. He stayed disconnected from the world. Booster Gold? Booster was Booster; once a slacker, always a slacker. He did nothing particularly productive around the house; he did himself some good at times by taking a walk outside with Vic, but that was about the extent of it. Vic, on the other hand, at least did something outside other than make Ted train himself; he decided he wanted to take care of the flowers.

Nobody stopped him.

It was today that Vic had slept in, and Ted decided he'd at least give himself a shot at having a green thumb.

With his glasses on - no necessity, all part of the disguise and all - he found work gloves and peered at the garden.

He belatedly wondered what Vic would know about keeping flowers alive. Hm.

"Hey. Got a moment?"

Ted nearly jumped, then turned to find himself facing a very... unfamiliar man. "Uh. I guess... um, can I help you?"

"I hope so." The man was taller than him - not surprising - but somehow managed to look much more lanky than himself, having a stringy beard and a receding hairline that was desperately combed over. "I live right next door to you guys. I never noticed ya moving in until a little while ago."

"Ah. We ... kinda had help." Ted grinned awkwardly.

"Your blind friend takes care of this garden, right?"

"Yeah." Vic had gotten into pretending he was blind, after all. "I don't think he's feeling well, so-"

"Get rid of the garden."

"I... what?" Ted peered at him.

The neighbor repeated himself, "Get rid of the garden. It's attractin' a whole bunch of bugs, and I'm almost damned sure there's a bee's nest in my backyard."

"Look, I don't know how probable that is - we haven't even been here very long - and besides-"

"Not gonna repeat myself."

Ted narrowed his eyes. "Maybe you should, because apparently you have no idea what you're saying. I can't get rid of this garden, bub." It wasn't personal attachment, but Vic had been paying it attention. It might have meant something to the Question, after all. Why get rid of one of the things that they could barely enjoy?

"Don't make me get personal - this garden's got to go!" the neighbor snapped at him. "It wouldn't take a whole lot of effort for me to do it myself - so you do it, or I will!"

Like a bunch of bees was this guy's biggest problem. Good lord, Ted couldn't believe how obsessive some neighbors got. "This is my friend's garden, and I'm not gonna get rid of it."

"You don't, and you'll live to regret it - mark my words!" The neighbor turned around sharply, storming away back to his own lawn.

Ted grumbled, rubbing a temple. "Right, whatever..." He turned back towards the garden.

Neither neighbor nor inventor noticed Vic Sage glaring out behind the blinds of a window.

* * *

Later in the day, Ted had eventually retreated back inside, cleaning up and peering into the refridgerator for something to eat. Sitting at the kitchen table was Vic, frowning to himself, having an open bag of ramen noodles that hadn't been boiled. He was eating them dry. 

Ted did a double-take. "Are you really eating that...?"

"Mmhmm." Vic eyed him. "...The garden. I..." He glanced aside. "Thank you."

"It's all right. Booster wasn't gonna do anything and... well, I guess I needed some fresh air anyway. Just that neighbor - talk about obsessive."

"Don't worry about him," Vic murmured.

"Yeah, I guess so. Look, I know we've only been here a few days, but... it looks like we're running a little low on the food department. Would you mind going out to shop?"

Vic shook his head. "Not a problem. Know where the buses go. Can go shopping."

"Okay."

Blue Beetle nearly jumped as the door was sharply knocked on. "Eh...?" Turning from the kitchen, he hurried to the front door, making sure to put on the glasses before opening the door. "Hi...?"

It was the same neighbor from before, talking quickly, "I'msosorry - PLEASE for the love of GOD don't go near me and nail dead rodents on my door I won't bother you AGAIN!"

"Excuse me WHAT?" Ted stared at him, but the neighbor had already fled.

Dead rodents...?

The brunet peered out the door towards the left where the neighbor had fled, finding a woman - presumably his wife - attempting to undo some nailed in roadkill from the front door.

Ted's brow twitched. He had a good idea who was responsible, somehow.

Slamming the door shut, Ted shouted out, "BOOSTER! VIC! Living room, NOW!"

"Huh? What's going on?" Booster peered down from the staircase.

"Living. Room." Ted's teeth were clenched.

Booster said no more and hurried downstairs to claim the couch.

Stepping in from the kitchen, still nibbling on his dried ramen, the Question took a chair for himself.

Ted, eyes narrowed, folded his arms and looked at both of them. "Okay. I called you both over here because- Vic, pay attention! This is about you!"

"Have done nothing," the Question muttered, still snacking on the ramen.

Blue Beetle was wondering how soon someone was supposed to get gray hairs. "Nothing? NOTHING! You call nailing roadkill to the guy's front door 'NOTHING'!"

Scowling, Vic told him, "Wanted to make sure he stayed away from you."

Holding up his hand, Booster announced, "I'm lost. What the hell is this about?"

At the point of the conversation they were in, Blue Beetle was dragging his fingernails down the sides of his face out of frustration. "I had an argument with the neighbor. About flowers. Vic's flowers. I defended him. The neighbor-"

Vic cut him off with, "Threatened him. Decided to keep neighbor out of the equation."

This caused Booster to squint his eyes, trying to think on that. "...Roadkill?"

Ted was incapable of voicing how much this frustrated him. So, instead, he gave out a great yell.

"**ARRRRGGHHH**!"

"Should go shopping," Vic decided. "Michael should come with."

Booster eyed the very furious Blue Beetle, then nodded.

Getting out of the house sounded like a very, very good idea.

* * *

Philadelphia in the fall was quite possibly gorgeous in the eyes of the common man. The leaves, in all shades of red, gold, orange, brown, were falling to the pavement and decorating everything that touched the ground. The sky was clear, the air was crisp, and it was a bit more chilly than Booster Gold would have liked. 

Perhaps 'Booster Gold' was not correct; he was in civillian clothing and had been convinced (other wise known as "forced into, kicking and flailing") to dye his hair a dark red color by the Question. So, while he would have even preferred his birth name - Michael Jon Carter - he was incapable of even this. Fake identities were in order when on the run from a government organization out to kill you because you knew too damned much.

So Batman gave him the identity of Scott Summers.

Still, in his mind, he was Booster Gold, so whatever.

Regardless, Booster thought it was quite cold out, and did not appreciate it.

"Should have brought a jacket," the Question muttered at him.

Booster tilted down the red-tinted sunglasses he'd also been convinced (aka, "forced") to wear to give him a proper pout. "I don't **have **one since we moved here."

"Should have gotten one while we were out, then."

"I was **busy**," Booster stressed.

Question shrugged. "Should have been un-busy." He turned his head away.

While Booster couldn't have been anymore grateful to the Question for all of his help, there was still something unsettling about him. Probably because he was crazy, but that was besides the point. Now he had to live with both him and Beetle under different names to hide away from Checkmate until an appropriate time. Supposedly, the JLA or Batman would inform them when.

Frankly, he almost felt a bit sorry for Question in regards to the name thing. The guy already went under three aliases: he'd been born with Charles Szasz, changed his name to Vic Sage, went under the Question while wearing the mask, and now he'd been given a fourth name: Matt Murdock.

So, as a matter of fact, he was pretending to be blind while in public. The Question had gone to the point of wearing contacts that gave his eyes a "blind eye" effect, and sunglasses that were pitch black to give him a true feeling of having no sight. Regardless of that, he still had **Sight** - that and his other senses aware around him. While keeping his identities quiet from everyone else, he also dyed his hair black, as well as eventually giving himself a scar on the left side of his jaw.

Realism, he called it.

Did Booster mention he was crazy? Yes he did.

At the moment, both Booster Gold and the Question were waiting at the bus stop, grocery bags at both of their sides. All three of them still hadn't gone out to buy a car. It wasn't the lack of funds, but the insecurity for themselves. Beetle normally stayed cooped up at home. Frightened, maybe.

Neither Booster or Question ever pestered him about it.

Blue Beetle had quite possibly gone through the worst of it. Being ignored by the JLA, being shot by Maxwell Lord, being dead and talking to the Question who could hear him due to feng shui and other wacko martial arts abilities, being brought back to life through the azure scarab, being forced to learn magic he loathed, being chased by Checkmate, being forced to deal with life upfront -

That was the way it was.

Beetle had eventually started to grow out some of his hair, mostly around his bangs was it noticable with the lack of care. It wasn't for the case of masking their identities, though. It was mostly that he stopped giving a damn about it.

"I think I'm getting sick," Booster whined, feeling his nose being runny.

"Uh-huh."

"I love your concern for my well-being," Booster grumbled, sniffling. A handkerchief and a scarf was thrown into his face.

The Question told him quietly, "Fifteen more minutes. Can you be quiet that long?"

"Probably not."

"Wonderful." Question turned his head away again, finger tapping on the top of the stick he carried with him. It wasn't a necessity, but he was still playing his part as a blindman.

Booster Gold blew his nose into the handkerchief. "Man, I'm getting sick of hiding like this..."

"I know," Question murmured. His tone hinted he felt similarly.

"I mean, jeez. If it wasn't for Ted, what would **they **have done, y'know?"

"I can imagine." Question's brows narrowed. "No other choice, though. Not much. Hide, until the right moment."

"Why can't we just hang at the Watchtower?"

The more paranoid of the pair turned his head to frown at Booster. "Been there. Done that."

"What happened?" Booster asked.

"Max. Had Superman crush my ribs. Not fun." Question turned his head away again. "...I understand. Not going to happen, though. Stay put. Stay quiet."

Booster grumbled.

The Question shrugged, as if he understood the incoherent angry mumblings of the blonde sitting next to him. "Not my style, either. Don't like it. But we have to. Rather that, than risk anything happening to Beetle..."

That did cause Booster to pause, and reluctantly agree.

Booster Gold then sneezed.

"Bless you," Question murmured.

* * *

It was becoming autumn, and it was becoming cold. 

Time had gone by since everything had started with Checkmate. Things had been harsh as they hid away from it all, albeit unwilling on all of their parts. Beetle did enjoy getting a break from the insanity, but he didn't like being forced out of being involved in stopping Checkmate. The concern for his well-being from the JLA was a little late. Beetle didn't like to be bitter about it, but he supposed the Question's furiousness about them - **Gods **he called them mockingly - had rubbed off onto him a bit.

So while he couldn't do squat about Checkmate, he stayed inside where no one would find him and try to blow his head off.

Beetle had taken to sitting under a lamp with a book - it was called "Shogun" - and reading. It was mostly how he spent his time.

Reading. TV. Eat. Sleep. Panic a little.

It was annoying, but it was his life. While the company of his best friend and ... well, he wasn't sure how to describe his relationship with Question (maybe "crazy monkey's uncle that should be locked in the basement" would suffice), but still... their company had been appreciated and everything, but it didn't stop how uncomfortable he felt about death, life, magic, and everything else.

Beetle hated magic, and now he had to learn how to use it because of the stupid scarab.

Shaking his head, he finally closed the book and slumped over in the couch in a lying position, considering sleep. He'd been exhausted from being so angry about what Vic had done. On one hand, it was kind of sweet in a really twisted way how the Question wanted to drive off anyone who threatened him. On the other hand, it was absolutely crazy what he had done. Nailing roadkill to someone's front door wasn't really one of the most sane things to do, after all.

The front door opened, and a stuffy-nosed Booster Gold complained, "You got LOW-FAT Chips Ahoy, you jerk!"

"Sitting around and eating cookies is bound to make you gain some weight," the Question muttered.

"You saying I'm..." Sneeze. "I'm **fat**?"

"I'd say 'if the pants fit', but they might not sometime-"

"I'M NOT FAT."

So much for sleep. Beetle placed the pillow over his head, hoping to at least pretend.

However, his pillow had been taken from him by the Question. "Up. Going out back."

Blue Beetle groaned. "I don't really want to do those exercises-"

"Out back."

"I don't feel good."

Question turned his head to eye at him. "You look healthy."

"Well, I don't feel it." Beetle reached for the pillow again, but the detective kept it out of range. "Jeez, just leave me alone, okay Vic?"

The Question seemed to consider it, then he pointed at the sliding doors to the backyard, repeating, "Out back." There was a pause to consider, then he muttered, "Tomorrow morning. Get some sleep, then."

Blue Beetle had felt fine - physically, anyway. He didn't doubt the Question knew as much, but he'd been given leeway... which he appreciated. The inventor reached out for the pillow, but instead the Question tossed it to his face.

"Urf. Thanks."

"Hn." The detective turned and went to the kitchen, to which he'd been greeted by Booster Gold with:

"LOW-FAT POPTARTS! C'mon!"

* * *

Later in the day, it had been a bit of a typical time for the Question when he decided he wanted to go for a walk. Most often, Booster tagged along - he had to get out of the house somehow - but considering his vulnerability to the cold and all, he stayed behind to fight off whatever he was catching. Not bothering the Human Enigma, the Question stepped out, dressed in essentials to be perceived as blind. 

His route didn't change, not usually. Vic had grown a habit to arrive at the park-cemetary fusion. It was hardly a favorite spot, but it was important to him.

He was distracted today as he peered out of the corner of his eye, **Seeing **someone following him. No one familiar.

Maybe it was Checkmate. One person, but suspicious.

Blocks and blocks went by as the Question picked up his pace, and the man still followed him, stubbornly so.

It aggravated Vic.

As he came to the bottom of the staircase, he turned sharply. It was in time to trip the man following him with the stick.

"Hello?" Vic played dumb, naturally.

"Eh-heh. No, my bad." The man stood up, brushing himself off. He was wearing a dark trenchcoat, buttoned up with the collar up for either dramatic effect or warmth. "You the one who lives in that nice ol' Victorian down the street?"

"Yes. Moved in sometime ago. With ... friends." Vic hesitated. Were they his friends? They were important - maybe that was good enough.

"Right. Name's Nick Bounty; I'm an inspector at the police departmant. And you are?"

"Matthew Murdock." Vic tapped his finger on the hilt of the stick, impatiently. "What is it?"

"Lady next door to you complained about roadkill being nailed to her front door; I dunno about you, but that's not a normal social call. Neighbors say a dark-haired man about your height did it."

Vic narrowed his eyes. "I'm sure a blind man was perfectly capable of such a thing."

"So you're legitimately blind, Mr. Murdock?"

"I think you're doing some unnecessary questioning, Mr. Bounty. I'm blind and completely incapable doing such a thing; one of my roommates was taking care of the garden and the other was inside with me for most of the time."

Nick grinned. "Neighbors also say they see you taking care of the garden usually."

"Peter showed it to me. I've grown an attachment to it. When one is familiar enough with territory, they don't need sight to know where things are," Vic remarked. Though he wasn't quite sure how believable that was.

"Uh-huh. I'm positive. Well, have a nice walk, Matt." Nick turned and continued down the street.

The Question frowned.

This Nick Bounty was going to be a problem. He would have taken care of it immediately, but... of course, last time, Ted hadn't exactly been too cheerful about it.

Reluctantly, Vic continued on his way.

* * *

It wasn't that either of them were particularly good at the game, but it had been better than nothing. After all, Ted had thrown out the chess board sometime ago - he never wanted to play the game again. Sometime after that, Booster had noticed that Vic had pulled it out and went out back with a container of gasoline, muttering to himself. So. No chess. 

Scrabble was good.

Ted was winning.

"It's a word," Booster protested. "You know. 25th Century word."

"So tell me, Booster, what DOES 'squixilmelt' mean?"

"It means ... uh..."

Ted eyed at him. The blonde sighed and took the pieces off the board.

"So. I was wondering." Booster hesitated. "How's the, you know... training thing with Question?"

"Crazy. Stupid. But helpful." Ted folded his arms on the table. "Most of what he has to say goes over my head, but... I manage it. He keeps forgetting that unlike him, I didn't train with Richard Dragon."

"He really...?"

"Yeah. Thanks to Lady Shiva. I don't know how Vic's stayed alive all these years, honestly," Ted admitted.

Booster raised a brow. "Luck?" He then went to blow his nose, acknowledging the fact that he was still getting sick.

"I can't say he's lucky," the inventor muttered. "He lived in Hub City for over ten years, struggling to keep it on its feet. He was still there, when I went to see him. I wonder why he didn't give up." Ted paused, then realized. "...I wonder if he gave up now."

"I don't know. I mean, he left to help you, right? This Checkmate stuff is really important. He knows that," Booster pointed out.

The brunet frowned, though. "I know, but I also know Hub City was important to him, even if it was crumbling."

"It's just what he wants to do, I think. It's important enough for him, right?"

"Yeah." Ted paused. The funeral had meant something to Vic; whatever he had said then made enough of an impact on him. He considered. "Yeah, I guess so. Anyway, your move."

It was then that the window suddenly shattered as the Question jumped through it.

Both Blue and Gold stared in silence.

Vic turned his head, brushing off some glass, watching them.

"Wha... I... you..." Ted sputtered. "Couldn't you have used the **door**!"

"Forgot my key," Vic told him, then walked out of the living room.

"I AM NOT CLEANING THIS UP!" Ted shouted after him. "Where are you going!"

"I'm hungry," the Question told him casually, going to the kitchen.

Ted held his head. "For the love of..."

"I'm glad Batman's paying the bills," Booster murmured.

Blue Beetle stood up sharply and went to follow the Question. "You can't just jump through the window like that and... and leave it! What's gotten into you! You're putting dead animals onto people's front doors, now you're doing this!"

"The door was locked. Forgot my key," Vic repeated himself, pulling out a jar of peanutbutter and went for a spoon. "Will fix the mess. Hungry."

"Look, I don't really know the kind of world you think you're living in, but-"

"Someone's investigating us," Vic told him suddenly.

"-you can't just... what?" Ted peered at him.

"Nick Bounty. Investigator. Looking into us. Talked to him today. Thinks it was me who 'disturbed' the neighbors."

Ted rolled his eyes at that, grunting. "Wasn't it?"

"Besides the point." Vic waved the spoon in his hand. "Need to be careful."

"Which exactly goes back to my point: don't jump through WINDOWS. You knew we were home! Why didn't you just knock?"

"Didn't want to." Vic stuck a spoonful of peanutbutter into his mouth.

"'Didn't want'... GUH!" Ted threw up his hands, turning and storming away. "Stupidcrazysonofa..."

This reaction caused Vic to consider. Perhaps he should find a replacement for the window.

He glanced outside through an unbroken window, and thought about it.

The neighbors surely didn't need theirs.

* * *

It was two hours after the Question's return home. Ted had gone away to his bedroom to grumble and read, and Booster claimed the couch for his resident 'I am sick so let me nap' spot. During this time, Blue Beetle had eventually calmed down to a point enough of being able to go downstairs to deal with his insane roommate. Much to his surprise, the glass that had been on the floor had indeed been cleaned - and the window was mysteriously replaced. 

Ted was grateful, but couldn't help but feel suspicious about it considering Vic's behavior.

Going into the evening, the inventor had reluctantly turned towards the kitchen. The three of them had eaten well enough the fast few days, but mostly by eating whatever was instant and could be prepared. They were all certainly bachelors incapable of cooking.

That was what he assumed, anyway.

Stepping into the kitchen, he found himself in a state of surprise, the Question stirring... something in a big pot.

"Uh?" Ted asked.

Vic glanced over his shoulder, then mumbled quietly, "Dinner. Chicken soup. Michael's not feeling well. You mind?"

"Not at all. ...You can cook?"

"When in the mood," Vic mused quietly. "When in the mood..." There was hesitation on his part, as if he wanted to say something - but he choosing not to.

Still, it only made Ted insistant. "What is it?"

"...You. My behavior. It concerns you."

"Well, I don't call jumping through windows and nailing dead animals to people's doors a great way to make people think we're regular guys," Ted remarked. "Vic, I can accept that we're not normal. I don't like it, but hey. I'll accept it. I can't change anything about it. But this... it's crazy. It's bounds of crazy I didn't expect from you, and it's the kind of crazy we have to avoid right now. And... I don't know, it just seems sudden behavior from you."

"Ridiculous," Vic murmured. "Sudden?"

"Yes! Exactly. Five days we've been here. Five days, and suddenly BAM. You're doing crazy shit."

The Question shook his head. "Not so sudden, not so crazy. Want the neighbor to stay away from you. Don't..." He frowned to himself, murmuring, "Don't want anyone to hurt you."

This time, Ted hesitated. "Vic...?"

"Don't want anyone to hurt you," the Human Enigma repeated softly.

"You don't have to worry so much about me."

It was in that moment, after the few days of staying at the house, Vic looked exhausted. There was something on his mind, something bothering him. Something he wasn't willing to voice. Still, he said regardless, "I... worry anyway."

"What is it?"

A pause, but the Question ended up giving him an expected answer: "Nothing..." He turned off the stove and poured a bowl of soup. Gesturing to the pot, he told Ted, "Help yourself." Turning, he stalked off towards the living room where Booster was at.

Ted thought on it. It made him concerned; there was something wrong, and Vic was unwilling to express it. Not that it shocked him with Vic hiding his thoughts, but he would have preferred the Question to be a bit more blatant with his worries. It'd be easier. After all, it wasn't as if they had anyone else; Ted would have appreciated bluntness in the matter.

Sighing, Ted got himself a bowl of chicken soup and went to join the other two for dinner.

**

* * *

Notes**: 

Nick Bounty is a reference to a terrific online adventure game called 'Case of the Crabs'. It's funny and it has a very B&W noir setting. Plus, I feel wittier using references instead of making up a character on my own right now. Haha.

MORE CRAZINESS NEXT TIME ZOMG.


	11. The Variation of Blind and Bounty

**Disclaimers and Useless/Useful Stuff to Know:**

Don't own any of these characters. Never will. Wish I did. Major spoilers for "Countdown to Infinite Crisis". Good idea to read the comic first. Also, spoilers for the Question six-issue miniseries.

**

* * *

Warning: The Pool is Contaminated**

by Alba Aulbath

* * *

It would be ridiculous to say 'it was the same every night since then'; it was different, slightly different every time. Just enough difference, every time. 

Just... enough.

_Clawing, reaching, scraping, nudging his way-_

_"You know about him. And I need to know."_

_There was a screen. An eye. OMAC Project. The D.E.O. There was S.T.A.R. Labs. Information. Information. Files. Every person._

_Necessary._

_The eye, a dark eye, a red eye, the eye on a man. An eye, overhead._

_The eye._

_"I need to know where he is. I'm sure you understand."_

_Superman. Clark Kent. Batman. Bruce Wayne. The Flash. Wally West. The Atom. Ray Palmer. Elongated Man. Ralph Dibny. Blue Beetle. Ted Kord. Booster Gold. Michael J. Carter._

_The Question. Charles "Vic Sage" Szasz._

_His mind, mind being torn-_

_Screams._

_Nose bleeding._

_"I wanted to bring you in a long time ago, I just couldn't find a way-"_

_He couldn't let it happen-_

_He could. He should._

_Somehow, his eyes were opened, after so much pain._

_"Join me or die time, is that it?" the bug snarled._

_"That's it exactly," the Lord said._

_"Rot in hell, Max."_

_There was a surge of emotion._

_He blocked that out. A bug, nothing but a bug. _

_A clear shot._

_Screams, scream, screaming-_

_"It's time to save the world from itself," the Lord said._

_A clear shot. A clear shot._

_Scream._

_His nose bled, and he told himself no, no, no, it wasn't meant to be done. A friend, a friend, don't-_

_A clear shot._

_Gray matter and blood was everywhere._

Vic opened his eyes, his chest tight and incapable of breathing right; all sharp gasps and close to hyperventilating. The same and different, just enough, since his mind had been invaded. Just enough. Just enough.

Ted. Could not lose Ted.

It bothered him, to dream of his death, knowing what happened.

It hurt more that it was in the point of view of his killer.

It was 2:07 AM, and Vic Sage did not sleep for the rest of the night.

* * *

Early morning, and it was cold as the few days before. Late September had not been kind to Booster Gold; three days after the sniffles, and it was a full-blown cold for him. While both Blue Beetle and the Question were doing well to take care of him, he was a bit irritated for being stuck in bed. Being cooped up in the house wasn't his style - not like Ted's current trend. Plus, neither he or Beetle felt comfortable when the Question was out on the streets alone anymore. 

The first time he came home alone, he'd pleaded for Booster to kill him.

The second time, a detective had been tailing him.

Seven o' four AM, and Booster Gold had woken up, nose stuffed and red, and grumbling. Unable to get back to sleep, he had taken his blanket and grumped his way down the stairs to claim the couch.

Much to his surprise, he found the Question sitting on the sofa, hunched over as he eyed tiredly at the television. He looked like a hunchback, the way his jacket had wrinkled around him, staring at the screen for some form of sanctuary. The television, naturally, though it was Booster's impression that the Human Enigma was barely giving it any attention. There was something bothering him.

"Couldn't sleep?" Booster asked as he sat down at the other end of the couch, sniffing.

"Nnn." Vic turned his head, looking to his companion. "No..." he admitted quietly. "Bad dream. Bad."

"Ugh, I dunno what's worse. My cold, or a nightmare."

"Who knows," the Question mused. "Who knows..."

Booster ignored the screen, looking to the tired man sitting next to him. "What was it about?"

"...Something terrible. Don't understand it. Don't wanna talk about it." The Question sighed. Lifting a bare hand, he placed it to Booster's forehead. "Still warm. Here, nap. Or try. Will make herbal tea."

Booster Gold made a face. "Gross. Can't you make anything else?"

"Yes. But it's good for you." Vic stood up. "Will bring water to help."

"Ugh, okay..." Booster flopped over on the couch, pulling the blanket closer to himself.

"...Michael. The dream. Don't tell Ted." Vic frowned faintly. "No need to worry. Enough, with what's happened."

Booster hesitated; Beetle should know, but he agreed with the sentiment that the Question was putting out there.

So, he nodded a little to him and closed his eyes, waiting for the horrific taste of herbal tea and water to wash it down with.

* * *

Later into the morning, closer to eleven o' clock AM, Ted had decided to get out of bed. It wasn't so much that he was a late sleeper, but more the fact that he had to consider rising away from the mattress, just thinking about spending his day inside the house with a lunatic and a slack. Honestly, he cared about them - but it didn't change the fact that they were what they were and they were bound to drive him up the wall and effect his heart condition. 

Which, honestly, he was surprised hadn't acted up since he came back to life. Whatever.

Either way, he wasn't particularly looking forward to dealing with the day. Vic was insane and was apparently slowly going crazier over the span of time - two weeks! Two weeks they were in this house, and the Question was crazier! Somehow, it seemed like his sanity level was going down ever since they got rid of Psychopomp. After all, breaking windows and nailing dead animals to the neighbor's doors weren't signs of a competent, level-headed man.

Ted appreciated him, he really did. He appreciated Vic and all of his help in all of his ways, but this was just... not normal.

Normal. He missed that so very much.

Eventually, he pulled himself out of bed, and walked downstairs. Not surprisingly, he found Booster occupying the couch, curled up under a blanket sniffling in his sleep. Blue Beetle felt for his friend, but at least he was sleeping.

The Question hadn't been; Ted could at least tell that much. Maybe that was why he was so nutty - lack of sleep.

"Morning," Vic mumbled to the brunet as he stepped into the kitchen; the Question was seated at the table, nursing a mug of coffee - black - and a bowl of mashed potatoes.

Ted decided not to ask about his choice for a breakfast. "Mornin'. How's Booster?"

"Sick. Hates the tea. Better lately. Glad." Vic stuck a spoonful of potatoes into his mouth.

"How about you?"

The Question hesitated. "...Fine," he mumbled.

"Uh-huh." Blue Beetle grabbed a box of Cheerios. "Except, you know, aside from looking tired. Like, for all the week and everything."

"Nn."

Setting down the box, Ted scowled. "Vic, I know you hardly sleep in general, but. I mean, you look worse than usual. What's going on?"

"Nothing of consequence," Vic muttered. "You have enough concerns. As does Michael. None of us sleep well. None of us. Maybe a little more easily lately - but still. Enough to worry. Enough concerns."

"Can you blame me for being a little worried?"

"No. But... there are better things to worry about."

Frowning, Beetle turned to face him. "Hey, what gives you the right to worry about us, but we can't do the same?"

"Lots of reasons. Sufficient enough." The Question set down his spoon. "You. No one listened to you, died because of a presumed companion, followed me and talked to me, came back, have powers, angry at world, angry at assumed friends, stuck here - enough stress."

"'Assumed' friends?" Ted did not like that description. "They **are **my friends - I mean, yeah, I'm pissed at them. But they're still my friends, Vic."

In response, Vic frowned a little. "What do friends do, Ted?"

"That's easy enough - they trust each other-"

"Do you trust them?" Vic eyed at him.

Ted sighed, irritated. "Yes, of course I do."

"They don't trust you, though." The Hub City vigilante stood up from his breakfast. "They ignored you when they shouldn't have. They didn't come, when you needed them. They set aside Michael after they knew part of the truth. They shoved you here after they knew everything. They don't trust you."

"Trust isn't the issue! They're looking out for us after what's happened-"

"Who listened to you?" Vic asked sharply. "Out of everyone, who listened to you? Death, pre-death - who listened, Ted?"

"I..." Ted growled a little. "Booster, Diana, and... you. Maybe Barb. I haven't had a chance to talk to her yet..."

The Question frowned. "Out of all the **Gods **of this planet, three - possibly a meager four - have listened. You trust them - but do they trust you?"

"They're my friends," Ted told him stubbornly. "They **are**. What happened... I don't blame them for it. They thought I was on a wild goose chase, 'cuz it's happened before. And..." His argument wasn't sounding very strong. Yes, he was angry with the League and everyone else - but they were his friends. They were all dear to him, every single one of them.

Did they feel the same?

"Hm," Vic mused.

The Question's attitude was also grating his nerves. Most of the time, on all accounts, he'd been very accurate. Very honest - crazy, but honest. Honest, and ... right. It drove Ted up the wall. "How does it feel?" Blue Beetle muttered angrily. "How does it feel to be right, all the damned time?"

"...Horrible," Vic admitted quietly.

The doorbell then rang.

The pair paused, then slowly turned their heads to the front door. While Vic frowned slowly, Ted glanced to him, worried. "Should we...?"

"Would be suspicious if we didn't. Get your glasses, answer the door. I'll be busy." The Question turned around and immediately went for the stairs, disappearing into one of the rooms.

Ted glanced towards the front door with some hesitation; who was it? Hopefully... not anyone after them. The thought of it made his hands spark with electricity, then winced as he tried to calm himself. Center, center - right.

Taking his glasses from the counter, he placed them on as he approached the front door, giving brief notice to Booster as he mumbled, waking up from the doorbell.

Opening the door cautiously, Ted peered at an unfamiliar man waiting at the paved steps. "Uh... hello...?"

"Peter Parker?" The man lifted his head, then offered his hand. "Inspector Nick Bounty. Met your friend, Mattie, few days ago."

"Oh." Ted frowned. Now what? "Well, how can I, uh... help?"

"Was hoping to ask you guys a few questions," Nick responded. "Can I step inside?"

"Well..." Ted glanced over his shoulder hesitantly, which was in time to spot the Question coming down the stairs - stick in hand and sunglasses on.

"Go ahead and let him inside. Is Scott awake?" Vic did well not to turn to face anyone in particular, keeping up his act well enough.

"I'll go check." The brunet turned around sharply towards the living room to check on Booster - although, admittedly, he didn't feel very confident in leaving the Human Enigma to deal with the detective.

On the sofa, Booster cracked open an eye tiredly. "What's goin' on...?"

"It's absolutely wonderful. You see, we have a cop over for company," Ted responded.

This caused Booster to sit up abruptly. "**Ahwhuh**...!"

"Mm-hmm. Remind me to thoroughly thank Vic for this lovely event."

"I somehow suspect a pool of sarcasm oozing from you - but it could just be me," Booster mumbled, reaching for another tissue.

Ted gave him a very, very plain smile. "What would give you that idea? I'm just completely thrilled. Can't you tell how excited I am?"

"Okay, you're workin' overtime on grinding into how annoyed you are; what's a cop doing here?"

"For questioning." Ted sighed. "I'm going to make sure that ... you know, Vic won't do something crazy. Like maybe try to shove the guy into the microwave, then bury him."

Scratching the back of his neck, the inventor stood up and approached the kitchen where both Vic and the inspector were seated; however, neither one spoke to one another. The Question kept his head facing just slightly away from Nick, listening more than seeing for his act. Once Ted was inside, Nick lifted his head and gestured towards the brunet, "If you'd take a seat, Mr. Parker; where's your friend, Scott?"

"He's ill and I would prefer him to rest instead of partaking in this," Vic responded, his voice much more stiff than usual.

"Hm." Nick shrugged.

Sitting down beside the Question, Blue Beetle scowled. "So, what's going on now?"

"A series of events have caused me to follow up. While I know it seems improbable... well, lemme just get to the point, eh?" Nick took out a pad of paper and a pen. "Mr. Parker, your friend and roommate - Mr. Matt Murdock - was seen about one week ago, outside and nailing a dead squirrel to your neighbor's door after he made some remarks about your garden out front. He was seen during early evening then jumping through your own window, and then allegedly used a chainsaw to cut out another neighbor's window."

Ted tensed; the first two were true, but the third he had no idea about - though it certainly sounded like something the Question would do. Plus, it explained how they got a replacement window so quickly. He turned and stared at Vic, who made no reaction.

"Look, I'm not really sure how you can even consider blaming him; he's blind. He can't do any of those things," Ted commented, though he knew he was lying. Utterly lying. Vic was capable, and he knew Vic had done those things.

And hell, he was going to give him a piece of his mind about that stolen window.

"I know, I know. I've checked for legal documentation; blind at age seventeen and all. Still, I find it funny that almost all of your neighbors in the surrounding area have actually reported in about his actions, in spite of his blindness." Nick smirked, tilting his head. "Comments, Mr. Murdock?"

"I believe that they're overreacting, as most people tend to these days. We're unfamiliar people with them, and the unfamiliar can be disconcerting. I don't doubt someone has done these things to them - however, I'm completely incapable. Unless you have any actual proof, Mr. Bounty, of my personal involvement... I would appreciate you don't come back here. Warrants aside, as I have no control over that." A brow was lifted under Vic's sunglasses. "You should be concerned, rightfully so - but I had nothing to do with these events."

Nick eyed at him, then grinned. "Of course. Must've been wastin' my time. 'Scuse me, gentlemen; I'll inform th' force we're barking up the wrong tree. Good day." The inspector stood up, pocketing his pad of paper. "I'll show myself out." He turned, stepping out of the kitchen.

Once Ted felt comfortable enough that Nick was out of earshot, he hissed at Vic, "You're insane, you dumbass! You stole a **window**!"

"Had to replace the one I broke," the Question murmured.

"With a chainsaw! A **chainsaw**!"

"It was lodged in pretty well - had to use something to get it out-"

"That's besides the point!" Ted slammed his hand against the table; said hand broke through the wooden table, causing pieces to fall to the floor.

There was a pause of silence, then the inventor growled and put his fingers into his hair, muttering to himself.

Vic turned his head to peer at Ted. "It's of no concern."

"It was illegal!"

"So's vigilantism. Tell it to a Dark Knight or a Man of Steel."

"They don't steal **windows**!"

"They have a hard time listening," Vic muttered coldly.

Ted held up a finger, pointing it at him. "I'm not circling around to that argument again, and it's totally off subject anyway. Vic - for God's sake, could you at least try to act like a sane human being! We're trying to be inconspicuous, and within two weeks, you've attracted the attention of a detective!"

"Did what had to be done." The Question was frowning, arms folded.

It was to the point where Ted really wanted to tear out his own hair, then maybe Vic's - but he paid attention to the dark-haired man's expression. It was vague, but it was there. It dawned onto Ted.

Vic really honestly thought what he did made sense - logical and absolute sense. In his own little Questionable head, he did things that seemed to make sense only to him. It was in that case, he really was literally nuts. The Question was, of course, smart and sharp in his own right and was usually correct - but he was definitely a little crazy for believing he did things he really thought he had to do. Which included dead animals, window smashing, and window stealing.

"You." Ted pointed at him. "**You**, when we're not being chased down by a government faction, you are getting therapy. Lots and **lots **of therapy."

"Hnn." Vic didn't appear particularly amused.

"You need it," Ted told him drily. "As a matter of fact, after living with you for however long this is going to be, I'm gonna need it too."

* * *

While laying on the couch, Booster hadn't really listened out for the conversation. Besides the fact that they were all the way in the kitchen, he was exhausted and wasn't up to stressing out about it; after all, Ted was doing plenty of that for the rest of them. 

He wanted to sleep, but his cold wasn't giving him a particularly good time.

"Mr. Scott Summers?"

Booster peeked open an eye. "Buh...?" He stared up at a man that was about six feet tall, a bit lanky, but wearing a bit of a traditional detective's outfit, something pulled right out of film noir.

"Inspector Nick Bounty," the man responded. "Mr. Summers, I have some questions for you. How well do you know your friend, Mr. Matt Murdock?"

"Well...?" Booster sat up a little. "Enough. I mean... he's my friend, so..."

"Is he blind?"

"N- yeah?" Booster winced. He almost messed that up; he hadn't really worried about the identity thing before - and being disorientated wasn't helping.

Nick was, evidently, smirking. "How long have you three been living here?"

"Two weeks, I guess..."

"Nice place. How did you guys get it? I don't really see any of you stepping out for work."

"I..." Booster frowned. How was he supposed to answer that?

"What was your previous work, Mr. Summers?"

Booster could only stare blankly at him as his mind sluggishly, through a fever - minor, but regardless - to come up with something, anything-

"Is Mr. Murdock keeping either you or Parker here against your will?"

"No," Booster told him sharply. He could definitely be honest about that.

"Oh." Nick paused. "**Oh**."

"Uh...?"

"Well, it's just..." Nick cleared his throat, loosening his tie. "To each their own, they always say."

It dawned to Booster, and he grumbled mentally about the deja vu. "We're not **gay**!"

"You know what they also say-"

"Don't say it," Booster muttered.

"-denial's not just a river in Egypt-"

"Can you go away yet?" Booster pleaded.

"You were leaving, Mr. Bounty?" Vic called out sharply as he approached from the kitchen, brows knitted tightly in a scowl. The sunglasses did nothing to prevent that his glare was completely evident towards Nick.

The inspector stood upright, glancing in the Question's direction. Then shrugged. "Figured I was, Mr. Murdock. We'll talk again later."

"Only if you happen to return with a warrant," Vic growled at him. "Good-bye, Mr. Bounty."

There was a pause as the Question waited for Nick to leave. After the door shut tightly, Vic approached swiftly and began to lock up the door. "What did he say to you, Michael?" he asked quietly as he set the locks.

"He was asking stuff like... previous work and, um, if you were keeping Ted and me here. Against our wills."

"Wasn't my idea," Vic murmured. "All this..."

"Yeah, I know," Booster told him. "Look, how much do we really have to worry about this guy?"

"If he's smart... we worry."

"If Vic doesn't stop being crazy and stupid, **anyone **could figure out something was suspicious," Ted remarked, stepping into the living room, taking off his glasses and setting them aside. "How you holding up, Booster?"

"Figure it's better than dealing with third degree burns, but I still wish it was better," Booster Gold responded in complete honesty.

There was a pause of consideration on Vic's part, then he began to undo the locks on the door. Sighing, Ted dared to glance up towards him, asking, "What are you doing?"

"Walk."

"You're not going to go chasing down that Nick guy are you?" Ted narrowed his eyes. "Don't nail shrunken heads on his door or something. Vic, the last thing we need-"

The Question scoffed faintly. "He won't be back here. Not unless he has a legal documentation stating he can - won't bother. Just need a walk. Need to think, is all. Won't follow him. No point." Opening the door, he slipped out and shut it behind him.

Letting out a sigh, Ted rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I hope he has his keys with him this time."

* * *

It was two weeks in, living in the house. Two weeks in, and it was still getting colder, Vic noticed. 

Two weeks.

Somehow, it felt like two years.

The Question had found himself on another walk, attempting to clear his head of all matters. Nick Bounty didn't concern him too much; he mostly thought on the dreams - nightmares that had been plaguing him since Psychopomp had attempted to take over his body. There was something... wrong with it. None of the dreams had anything to do with himself or Psychopomp.

It was Maxwell Lord and Ted. From what he could tell...

He couldn't understand it, but he couldn't discuss it either.

There were some things that Vic was still capable of fearing and agonizing over; the rare, capable few. Seeing Blue Beetle getting shot every night in his mind was one of those things.

Sighing, he continued his walk towards his usual path.

Vic was wearing his contacts for the "blind eye" effect, a pair of sunglasses, and was using a stick for the proper "blind man" role. He still had yet to fully teach himself brail, but he was getting better at it.

He could still **See **and see.

Stopping at the top of the steps he had gotten used to following, he frowned to himself. He was being followed.

"Mr. Bounty," Vic muttered distastefully.

"Heya, Matty." The inspector climbed up, standing beside the Question. "Neighbors have some real interesting stories about you and your roomies. Real interesting."

"So I've heard from you previously..." Vic raised a brow behind his sunglasses. "As I'm sure you already know, I'd be completely incapable of doing things like you've listed. I'm perceptive in my own way about where things are in the house - not outside it." A blatant lie. He was good at those.

"Unless you've got yourself a look-a-like, witnesses say it was you."

"Witnesses don't like me, and I don't like them. For all you know, they could be lying to get me out of their little neighborhood," Vic remarked.

"For all I know, they aren't lying."

The Question frowned.

"I also know that neighbors hear a lot of things breaking in the house. Having arguments with the roomies?" Nick peered at him. "And that short one - Peter, right? He's always inside the house. Never comes out."

Vic pressed his thumb against the hilt of his stick, stiffening.

"I'll be blunt, Mr. Murdock. You three are awfully suspicious. You suddenly move in, strange stories coming in. People are freaked, and maybe for good reason. Come down for some questioning, or I'll definitely get myself a warrant."

"You only have claims based on the words of annoying citizens in your city. You have nothing-"

"You come down with me, Mr. Murdock," Nick told him slowly. "Or I can go pester your two pals. Drag 'em down, ask 'em what's going on. They probably wouldn't last too long, you know. But I'm willing to bet that Scott guy will go first with how nervous he was-"

The inspector found himself five inches above the ground than normal, as the Question had grabbed him by the throat, lifting him in the air without any apparent effort. In a low, off-kilter voice, Vic hissed at him, "Do not go near them. Do not touch them. Or you will see Hell. You will be in Hell. You will **wish **you were in Hell." Throwing him aside against the steel railing, Vic glowered behind the sunglasses.

Coughing for air for a few seconds, Nick appeared a bit fazed before he grinned. "See that? Right there... that's motivation to go investigating. You aren't really blind, are you? I'll bet I could find some other real interesting things about you guys. I should drag down your buddies and see what they know about you. There's probably some dirt on you, isn't there? Maybe on **them**, too."

The anger that had twisted onto Vic's face was incapable of describing in any form of words, any language in existence. The Question had dropped the stick, literally snarling at the cop. Full of nothing but grace, he twisted around, the heel of his shoe striking Nick in the skull. Vic turned, arms around and fingers curled, his coat flapping around him and making him look like a furious devil. Grabbing Nick by the face, he threw him down the cement stairs, not lamenting at each crack he heard. Vic followed him down, slamming his foot onto an arm he knew was broken. With the back of his foot, he grinded his weight into the wound.

The Question growled at him. "You dream of coming near them. And you'll have such nightmares. You think of approaching either one of them, and you. Your life will come to a disturbing. End. Stay away... or you'll stay away for good."

Without another word, Vic turned sharply and began his trek home, leaving behind a very beaten Nick Bounty.

But the inspector felt only confidence.

* * *

Late into the afternoon, Vic returned. Shutting the door behind himself and locking the door, he turned to find Ted waiting, arms folded. Taking off his sunglasses, he narrowed his eyes faintly in the inventor's direction, silently asking what it was. 

"Got a call about an hour ago," Ted told him. "Police department. Apparently, Nick Bounty claims that Matt Murdock beat the crap out of him. Not that it's possible, because you're blind, right? Plus you said you weren't going to follow him."

"I didn't," Vic responded. That part was true; he didn't follow Nick.

"But you attacked him." Ted narrowed his eyes.

"Deserved a good fright."

"Yeah, well! Thanks a whole lot, Vic - the P.D. want our asses down at the station for further questioning, **pronto**!" The brunet threw his hands up into the air. "Look, I can accept that you think you're doing a snap up job protecting us. Well, actually, no I can't because lately you've been kind of slacking on the COMMON SENSE part of your brain!"

"He threatened you and Michael," the Question hissed. "Won't accept that."

"Every time someone threatens us, you're going to flip out?"

"**Yes**," he said fiercely. "When can I make light of someone threatening you or Michael? Never. Being arrogant - lost too much. Can't play that game."

"Vic-"

"Will **not **lose you again. Neither will Michael."

Ted grumbled something obscene to himself, index finger rubbing his temple. "Vic... Look, there's no way you can possibly fix it by scaring off everyone and beating the shit out of them. This isn't Hub City - it can't work like that. I know it makes sense in your head, but it doesn't here. Can you, at least, try really **really **hard to act like a normal person on their level while they question us? Don't make me get onto my knees and beg - I am seriously at the end of my rope here."

The Question was frowning sharply, hands clenched; he had assumed he'd done the right thing. The inspector deserved more than what was delivered...

He hadn't overreacted. Vic convinced himself of that. He hadn't. He just couldn't risk anyone harming Ted or worse-

It was, admittedly, his nightmares disturbing him, making him really fear the possibility of witnessing him dying. Or Michael, even. But he couldn't announce that.

"I... will do my best," Vic muttered quietly.

Letting out a heavily relieved sigh, Ted nodded. "Thank you - jeezum. Okay. They're coming down soon to pick us up after I tell 'em you're home now. ...Look, Vic. I know you're just trying to protect us... but you're overdoing it. Way overdoing it. You don't want to lose us - great, fantastic. I know, you're our friend, too. We don't want to lose you either. Just... tone it down. You're like a crazy older brother I should have locked up in the basement."

"Hnnn."

"I didn't **mean **that."

"I know."

Shaking his head, the inventor pointed towards the living room. "Go and make sure Booster's up? I gotta go call them." Turning around, Ted walked for the kitchen.

Stepping towards the living room, the Question was not very surprised to find that Booster Gold was still lying down on the couch, blanket over his head. Vic pulled the blanket down, peering at him. Grumbling, Booster attempt to reclaim the blanket, but it was out of reach. Opening his eyes, he pouted blatantly.

"Have to go," Vic told him. "All three of us. Ted, did he tell you?"

"Uh-huh. You beat up that Nick guy?"

A faint scowl reached Vic's brow. "Rather not speak much of it. Threatened you and Ted. Didn't want him to make good on a threat."

"Look, um..." Booster sat up, frowning. "I know Ted's really upset, but... well, I guess if it was me he was talking to and he said what he told you... I might've done the same. Maybe worse. Guess it depends. I haven't exactly been too well known for having a cool head."

Vic nodded. "Understand..."

"I'm serious. I really would have... When you and Ted came back when we were in Edge City? I swear, I was going to kill Max. Well, uh... so were you, but... the point still stands. Okay? We both want to protect him, really bad."

"Not just him," Vic mused quietly. He glanced at Booster in silence, then held out his hand. "Must go, all three of us. Ready?"

"No, but we gotta go anyway. And by the way, you gotta get out of the habit of saying something really nice, then pretending you didn't," Booster remarked, taking the Question's hand and helping himself up.

"Hrm."

Ted moved out of the kitchen, sighing and placing on his glasses. "They'll be out front in a minute."

"Lookin' forward to it," Booster muttered. "So, they're just gonna ask questions, right?"

"Right." Ted turned to Vic. "And I swear, you behave, or-"

"Will. Already said so. ...Promise. Will not jeopardize anything," he responded.

* * *

The police car had arrived, and the three - all with reluctance - left the house. The ride had been silent as they were taken. The Question appeared very calm and this did not particularly shock Ted; Blue Beetle was gritting his teeth and wishing he was calm; Booster Gold was twiddling his thumbs and doing well to avoid nervously humming a random catchy tune. 

While the Question had taken his stick, he still kept a hand to Booster's shoulder, following him, acting well on his role. In silence, the trio followed the cops, brought to a room set for their questioning. In a corner, standing, was Nick Bounty; an eye was swollen almost closed, bruises on his face, and an arm was in both a cast and sling. It was impractical, considering Nick should have been in an hospital - though, Ted supposed the inspector was all too eager to witness the session.

Some would call the determination admirable. Ted called it annoyingly stubborn and obsessive - it reminded him faintly of a certain Dark Knight in that regard.

"Matt Murdock, Peter Parker, and Scott Summers," one of the uniformed men spoke, seated at the table. "Inspector Nick Bounty has claims that Mr. Murdock is responsible for his current injuries. You were at the park earlier this afternoon, Mr. Murdock?"

"Yes, I was," Vic replied, voice utterly peaceful and calm. It wasn't a tone either Ted or Booster were used to.

"Did you talk to Inspector Bounty?"

Vic nodded. "Yes. He approached me with more questions and interpretations of my alleged actions."

"Were you responsible for Inspector Bounty's injuries?"

"Sir." Vic smiled wryly. "As you can see - since I can't - I'm incapable. Matt Murdock is as blind as they come." He reached up to his sunglasses, blinking his seemingly sightless eyes; wearing contacts had a perfect effect of being blind. "Therefore, Matt Murdock did not inflict injuries to Inspector Bounty."

"Oh please," Nick growled. "You can't be blind! You-"

"Inspector," the officer said sharply. "You're bearing as a victim right now. Not as your position in this force. Mr. Murdock, you're completely blind, yes?"

"I don't suppose you need to check my pupils," Vic responded drily. "Inspector Bounty knows that I have legal documentations stating that, yes, I am blind. I have been since high school."

"So, can you read this document for me in brail?" The officer handed Vic a simple piece of paper with the appropriate bumps of brail on it for him.

"Of course."

Ted almost winced. That was a blatant lie; Vic hadn't finished memorizing it yet, and he knew that.

Still, Vic ran his fingers over it, then smirked faintly. "The Ugly Duckling?"

"That would be it." The officer took the sheet of paper back. "Thank you, Mr. Murdock. Mr. Parker, where and when did you meet Matthew Murdock?"

"Uh, well..." Ted hesitated. He was a bit disorientated; Vic's performance was completely well acted, more than he had expected, especially when he had recognized the brail somehow. "It was, uh... ...Well, it was over ten years ago. We met in Chicago at an event in the square. Been friends since." Truthful enough.

"He was blind then, correct?"

"Yeah."

"What was the event you two were handling?"

"It was, uh..." Ted frowned. "Um... eh-heh, you know, I don't really remember..."

"You don't?"

"It was awhile ago, to be fair," Vic remarked. "It was something of a costume party. Peter was taking some pictures."

"Hmm." The officer turned to the third man. "And, Mr. Summers..." There was a pause from the policeman as he noticed that Booster had bowed his head and was, apparently, sleeping.

Vic tilted his head. "What is it?" he asked, feigning innocence.

"He's asleep," Ted muttered to him, smirking a little, not sounding very surprised.

"Oh, well. Scott's caught himself a cold, officer. I wasn't sure if it was appropriate to take him along, but I know you wanted to see all three of us. Are we done soon?"

The officer sighed and waved his hand. "You know, there isn't even really a case here. Derril, why don't you take these three home? We've got nothin'. Nick, I want a word with you."

"Look, he was the one who-" Nick began sharply.

"Damn it, Bounty, the man's blind as a bat! You want me to believe that-"

"Come on, let's get you guys home," Inspector Derril sighed, shaking his head.

Standing up, Ted shook Booster's shoulder. "Psst, hey! C'mon."

"...ugh, don't wanna wash G'nort again, J'onny..." Booster mumbled against his arm. "...wet fur, so groooossss..."

"Scott, we have to go now. You can sleep at home." The tone of voice was utterly unlike the Question to the point of surprising Booster Gold; he lifted his head sharply, staring at him. However, Vic simply held out his hand in front of himself. "Peter, help me?"

Glancing hesitantly towards Booster, who was drowsily standing up and sniffling, Ted nodded to the Question. "Sure thing. You awake enough there, 'Scott'?" He wasn't sure how Vic made their names sound so... natural. Frankly, just the way Vic was acting so perfectly... normal was weird.

"I am now," Booster muttered, glancing towards the Question, who innocently didn't seem to know any better.

Ted bet otherwise.

The inventor took Vic's hand, leading him out from the police station with Booster behind them, leaving the room as Nick Bounty and the officer continued to scream at each other.

* * *

It was continuing on to late at night once they returned home. Ted still found himself in faint shock at Vic's capability of being so... so damned **normal**. So, he had taken a moment to sit down and try to wrap his head around it. And maybe read a good book. The Question had nothing to say, apparently, and had disappeared almost immediately the moment they returned home. 

The inventor turned around and flopped back into one of the chairs set up in the living room; Booster had occupied the couch once again as his 'sick spot', with two blankets covering him and ducking himself under a few pillows. Ted smiled wryly; he felt bad for his friend, stuffed nose and all, especially since no one was willing to baby him.

"I want chocolate milk," Booster whined.

"Sugar's bad for you when you're sick, especially when it's in milk, Booster." Ted picked up another book he'd been reading from the table it was on. "What about that herbal tea stuff Question got?"

Booster suddenly looked a whole lot paler. "I swear he's trying to kill me- I mean... ugh, sorry, Ted..."

Lifting his hand and waving it, Ted assured, "Death kinda loses its meaning after everyone dies and comes back a few dozen times."

Not that it hadn't bothered him to think about it; it did, but he didn't really want to concern Booster with it. The fact of the matter was, Ted wasn't even comfortable being alive again. It made him feel... strange. Not really normal. Not that being Blue Beetle was even remotely normal by any means, but dying, coming back with powers and everything... it bothered him.

Ted didn't want to be dead again, but he didn't feel comfortable with how he was recently, either. It was getting better overtime, but... regardless.

"What was it like?" Booster wondered hesitantly. "I mean, ya know... big bright light or anything...?"

"I don't know how to describe it," Ted admitted. "...Lonely, I guess."

"Had to be, if the only guy who could hear you was kinda nutty."

The Question's sanity was always in... well, question. Ted had worked with him before and thought he was a little nuts back then, even. Now? He had some form of respect for him. It was difficult to describe; Question was definitely off his rocker, but he had best intentions and knew what he was doing, even if the way he did things wasn't always the best way. Whatever Booster thought of him, Ted was at least positive that he didn't dislike Question.

He was just kind of crazy and that could occasionally creep a guy out.

It had dawned on Ted, though. "So, where **is **our nutjob roomie?"

Booster shrugged and pulled the blankets over his head, mumbling, "Chocolate milk, Mommy."

"No chocolate or milk for you." Ted shook his book at the unfortunate Booster Gold and stood up. "I'll be right back."

And he went exploring for the Question.

* * *

It was still cold outside, more so with the chilling rain pouring down. At the front of the house they were continuing to stay and literally hide away inside, there had been once a garden. The plants were slowly dying due to the cold. Ted and Booster hadn't paid the plants much heed - not that the Question expected them to - so he had decided to do it himself. 

Not that he had much of a green thumb, but he had to do it.

Because no one else would.

That was his answer to everything, it seemed. Why did he care at all about Hub City? Because no one else would. Why did he attempt to undo the corruption and take down the very scum of the streets? Because no one else would.

Why had he, of all people, had listened to Blue Beetle when he died?

Because no one else would.

There was more to it, to every question and an answer - but it was so easy to generalize.

The rain poured onto his back, shoulders, neck, head - everything. He was soaked to the bone and then some. The Question's hands were bright red from the cold as he pulled away weeds and cared for what hadn't been loved. They had ignored what seemed so little to them because they were tired and weary of the JLA, Checkmate, and everything that existed outside of their new home.

Home. Had it been home?

Had the Question ever had a home? Hub City was a place he attempted to guard and guide, but it had never been home to him. It had been gritty, it was rotting, it was the dark side of the planet.

The city cried to him everyday, pleading.

He could **See **its fall from life.

The Question never had a home. Was this home?

There'd been apartments, houses with Tot, the Catholic orphanage, college campus - nothing he was attached to.

Then there had been this. He cared. He genuinely cared, but.

He wondered. It was a good question.

The rain gradually developed to sleet, and from sleet to unforgiving cold snow that was biting at his hands and threatening to freeze them.

The garden, he told himself. If no one would care for it, he had to. Because no one else cared for it.

But was that how it was? Did the Question do his deeds, simply because no one else would? Did he actually care for anything?

Yes, he told himself fiercely. Yes.

There were reasons why he had gotten involved. It was partly due to Tot, may he rest in peace. It was all due to Ted, whose soul could not rest, not for the trials that would be ahead of them.

It had been, he owed Ted. Blue Beetle remembered finally, but the Question still owed him.

Maybe he owed the garden, too.

Owed him, owed him, owed him.

A celebration of life.

Life. Life and death. Death. Celebrate life.

Question tried desperately to help the garden, for its inevitable death and rebirth.

"Question?"

The detective turned his head up, finding himself being covered with an umbrella held by Ted, who was giving him quite a look, typically when the Question said or did something that the inventor found strange or distasteful.

"What the hell are you doing?" Ted peered at him.

"Garden. Life. I..." Question couldn't explain himself properly.

Ted knelt down, then stared at his hands. "JEEZ - how long have you been out here? You've gotta be freezing your ass off. C'mon, before you get a cold, too. I'm not gonna baby you **and **Booster, y'know." He grabbed onto the Question's wrist, yanking him inside of the house and slamming the door shut.

The Question felt some confusion. But there was also a conclusion.

Home was wherever he needed to be. He was needed here, he was sure of it.

Even if he owed someone.

"...Thank you." Question then glanced away, as if he had said nothing.

"Yeah, okay, now shut up and change into some dry clothes." Ted shoved him towards the stairs. "Is it ANY wonder I developed a heart condition!"

Perhaps this was home indeed.

**

* * *

Notes:**

I'm sorry this took so long. I weep, andI hope it's okay.


	12. The Lake is Really a Pit of Fire

**Disclaimers and Useless/Useful Stuff to Know:**

Don't own any of these characters. Never will. Wish I did. Major spoilers for "Countdown to Infinite Crisis". Good idea to read the comic first. Also, spoilers for the Question six-issue miniseries.

---

**Warning: The Pool is Contaminated**

by Alba Aulbath

---

"It's your fault for sitting around outside, being obsessive. While it rains and SNOWS."

The Question grumbled.

"Don't look at **me**."

Still, he grumbled, pulling the blanket over his head. "M'fine."

Ted placed a finger to his temple, shaking his head. "Was it this bad for J'onn when we were in the League?"

"None of us had to have J'onn take care of us whenever we caught a cold," Booster remarked.

That was true.

A day after getting questioned by the police department, the Question had - for reasons that Blue Beetle was incapable of grasping - spent some time outside in the cold yanking weeds out from the garden, in the cold with no gloves or anything of like. Ergo, Vic caught himself a cold and somehow managed to be worse off than Booster was previously. 'Previously' spoken, since Booster Gold's health was much better than the day before.

The three of them were in Vic's bedroom, struggling to get him to eat or do something that would be constructive for his health. It shouldn't have been but much to Ted's surprise it was being much more difficult than he had assumed.

Ted leaned over, pulling the blanket away from Vic. "Look, I have... are you sure this is chicken soup?" The brunet glanced down at the bowl in his hand that was steaming with yellow tinted broth and noodles.

"Chicken-flavored ramen. Hey, **I **don't cook, okay?" Booster held up his hands in defense.

"Well, it **should **be okay..."

Vic muttered, "Too much sodium. Dehydration. No nutritional value."

"What do you care? It's all you ever eat," Booster told him.

"Getting better from a cold means ingesting something healthy. My daily diet's not the problem."

"Actually, if you don't eat enough of the right vitamins, it effects your entire immune system," Ted pointed out. "Okay, so no instant ramen. And it's not looking like since you last went grocery shopping you picked up any canned soup, so..." He turned to Booster. "Hey, what about that frozen veggie mix?"

Vic stared at Ted as though he'd been issued a date for execution. "No." Pulling the top of the blanket back, he hid himself away a second time.

"You are such a baby." The inventor shook his head. "All right, I know you're hardly a cook, but think you can handle boiling, Booster?"

"Well, I **shouldn't** burn anything..." Booster murmured as he stepped out.

"Not gonna eat it," Vic growled.

"I'll have Booster pre-chew if I have to," Ted threatened. "And then have you swallow it. I swear to God I will. Now drink your tea."

The Question muttered something incoherent, taking his mug of tea and silently drinking.

"Didn't help you at all did you didn't sleep. Again. How do you manage to avoid being in the loonybin?" Ted remarked.

"Didn't want to sleep."

"Didn't want to- Vic, you have to sleep if you wanna get better!"

Scowling, Vic shook his head. "Can't. Shouldn't..."

"Oh my god migraine," Ted grumbled without pause, rubbing his temple.

Booster Gold returned with a plateful of the various vegetables; essentially, he had thrown in whatever he could find. In way of apology, he had brought up a glass of orange juice without much thought, considering their unfortunate sick companion had more to complain.

"Don't like pulp," Vic muttered.

"You BOUGHT it with pulp." Ted was close to tearing his hair out.

"Because Booster wanted it. I didn't."

Booster shrugged. "So I like to chew my orange juice..."

"Just drink it." Ted held out the plate with various greens. "And eat."

Vic stared at the steaming plate of a variety of vegetables, as if it was complete foreign. "...Nngh."

"Dear God, you're such a baby."

"It's disgusting, and I don't want it."

Booster whispered aside to the Question, "You'd better do it, or he's gonna use the choo-choo train."

Vic stared at him, but his view was blocked when Ted held out a forkful of spinach. "Eat your goddamn greens! And for the record, it's NOT a train. It's an airplane."

"I don't like either. Not much for public transportation- **UGHNF**." Vic's mouth had been abruptly stuffed with spinach, and he reluctantly chewed.

Ted stabbed a carrot with the fork. "There. That so hard?"

The Human Enigma gave him a dirty look, and swallowed.

"Nn. After being sick with a cold, I'll be sick with this," the Question grumbled.

"Shut up and eat. Carrot." Ted waved it at him.

"Don't like carrots cooked. Bitter. Mushy."

Booster rubbed his chin. "You know, I just really noticed something - most things that are supposed to be good for you taste really awful. You know, like medicine and stuff."

"Grape-flavored medicine's okay," Vic grumbled.

"Yeah, well, congratulations - you have boiled carrot-flavored medicine," Blue Beetle responded flatly. "Open your stupid mouth and eat so you can get better." Grumbling to himself for a moment, the Question reluctantly accepted the carrot.

---

Early October, and Inspector Nick Bounty still had his injuries as far as broken bones went. He supposed that it had been his past and most impressive works in the force that managed to keep him on board; the chief had been incredibly upset that he had accused a blind man of those actions. But he knew the truth. A man who claimed he was blind had beat the living crap out of him.

Though he'd been told to leave the three men alone, he couldn't sit idly by knowing the truth. Nick had to investigate; it was his job, and he was going to do it.

A man with fake papers. Playing blind very, very well. A good actor. A suspicious scar on the left side of his face.

Made a man wonder.

Nick Bounty, after his patrol had been done three times over, had gone curiously into the neighborhood, scowling to himself.

"Interesting, isn't it?"

Turning his head, Nick eyed a woman standing a few feet behind him. She was pale, though not drastically so; standing about his height - maybe 5'9" - and was fairly slender from what he could see; she was wearing a full-lengthed yellow coat, made of fleece. Her hair was a calm pink, going just past her shoulders in curls.

Definitely not someone familiar.

"You live in this neighborhood?" Nick raised a brow.

"Not at all. But I knew this city." Offering a dainty hand, she introduced herself, "Wendy. Wendy Crown. I joined the force a week ago; I was originally in New York City."

She was in the police department? Nick narrowed his eyes. He doubted that very much. He knew almost everyone. Still, he accepted her hand for the moment, "Nick Bounty."

"I know, Inspector. They're talking about you a lot lately, Mr. Bounty." Wendy smirked faintly. "You're interested in the three men that live in that house - so they say."

"And they're right."

"You're blatantly honest, even though the chief told you 'no'."

Nick grinned. "I know when something deserves my attention, Wendy. I didn't beat myself up, you know; it was that guy, Matt Murdock."

"Have any way to prove it?"

"Not yet. But I'm going to."

Wendy smiled faintly at him. "How about a little bit of help?"

"You want to help me?" Nick had already began to consider - but the problem was, he didn't trust her. There was no reason he should. "Let me see your badge, Wendy."

"O' ye of little faith." Reaching into her coat, she offered her badge. "Like I said, I was moved last week - don't believe me still, Mr. Bounty?"

Scowling, the inspector observed the badge in his hand. It wasn't forged - but he still found it odd. Nick didn't remember her at all, but it appeared perfectly legit.

But then again, so had Matt's papers claiming he was blind.

"Let's say, for the record, you are a cop, Ms. Crown-"

"Mrs. I'm a married woman," Wendy responded sharply.

"Mrs. Crown," Nick amended. "Why are you so interested in helping me?"

"You have a decent record, Mr. Bounty. Even if you disliked someone, I doubt you'd go out of your way to hurt yourself to make it look like a blind man beat you. There's something else going on. You may want a little bit of help. I'll be happy to provide a bit in what ways I can without endangering my own job."

Nick considered, frowning.

Well... maybe.

For now.

---

_"You have to understand - I need the information you have on him."_

_His mind was being torn in half - that was what it felt like. Part of him was being torn away from his own body, yet half remained. Incomplete..._

_But his mind had never been so clear before._

_"I need to know where to find HIM."_

_A woman was screaming and there was **fire **and, oh **hell **he was burning, she was burning-_

"Vic?"

_There was a clear shot, gray matter and blood everywhere._

_And there was still screaming, she was screaming, unable to do a **thing**-_

_He screamed, too._

"Vic!"

_Burning, burning-_

He was shakened and his eyes were wide open; awake, but dazed, stuffy, soaked with sweat.

"God damn, I think your fever's getting worse."

The Question turned his head sharply, staring tiredly at Booster. "You... still here?"

"No, I'm a figment of your imagination," Booster told him. "Try to get back to sleep, okay?"

"...Can't. No. **Can't**." He shook his head and laid his head back down. "No..."

Booster bit his lip. "Nightmares?"

"...Yes."

"You looked like you were in a lot of pain, and... well..."

Turning his head, eyeing him, Vic asked, "What?"

"You were screaming pretty loud. Did it get worse?"

Reluctantly, Vic nodded. "Don't make me talk about it..."

Booster sighed. "I won't, but... what the hell am I supposed to tell Ted?"

"Just a rough night."

"...Uh-huh. Look, it's been awhile. I don't know how much longer you can put off telling him."

Vic frowned. "Michael..."

"I'm serious. He's worried. Hell, I'm worried, okay? We have to tell him sometime." Booster paused. "Try getting to sleep. I know you're having bad dreams, but... you need it if you're gonna get better. I'll be right here, all right?"

"You've been watching me."

"Ch'yeah. You always watch us; figured it was my turn." Booster stood up. "Be right back." Turning, he stepped out of the bedroom.

Sighing quietly, the Question attempted to sleep again after closing his eyes.

Booster Gold shut the bedroom door behind him, frowning. He didn't like keeping it from Ted; he did want to protect his best friend - hell if he was ever going to chance losing him again - but this was a bit extreme. Then again, it was the Question, who took almost everything to an extreme.

Maybe it was to a ridiculous amount, but they both had a silent agreement on that kind of feeling. Ted was their friend, and nothing was worth the risk of worrying him or hurting him somehow. Something like a nightmare shouldn't concern him, even if it did bother Booster.

He started for the staircase, but he had immediately felt a hand to his shoulder; glancing over, he was a bit alarmed to be facing with Ted. "Uh... it's kinda late...?" Booster tried to subtly suggest that bed was a very good thing and Ted should be giving it attention.

Then he remembered his incapability of subtly.

"It's late and I heard Vic screaming loud enough to break windows without having to jump through them," Ted responded flatly. "Did he tell you what happened?"

"No?" Booster again attempted to suggest that he knew nothing, nothing at all - perish the thought!

However, Ted did not look convinced, and had his arms folded as he eyed his friend.

Sighing, Booster rubbed the back of his neck, "It was a nightmare. You know, fever dream."

"He's been having nightmares since that Psychopomp guy came around." It wasn't a question; Ted spoke with definition. He knew.

"...Yeah."

"You been holding out on me?" Blue Beetle eyed him.

"Q asked me to!" Booster held up his hands. "I'm **almost **perfectly innocent."

Beetle grated with, "Almost. Why aren't either of you telling me anything like that?"

"Well... it's... you know, a little complicated? ...Look, he doesn't want to worry you."

"Doing a real good job," Ted grumbled.

"Really, he doesn't! You've had enough crap to deal with, Ted; Q doesn't want to add anymore weight."

"Booster... You know what really aggravates me? Is if I had to find out because he was suffering. I know he is; he hasn't had a decent night's sleep since probably before he left Hub to help me out - and it's only gotten worse now. Now, if either of you decided to tell me, we could probably have tried to figure out a way around this nightmare problem." Ted let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Where were you going to go after walking out of his room?"

"Downstairs. Uh, for water."

"You do that. I'm going in there. For a change of pace, I'll be the sleepless one. I'll be damned if I let this go on any further." Turning away, he went to the bedroom door. "I know why you did it, Booster. And it's okay for us to protect each other - but don't keep me uninformed about things, either. Okay?"

"Okay. But I dunno if Q is gonna be so agreeable." Booster turned and walked down the steps.

That was fine, and predictable; the Question was one of the most stubborn people that Ted had gotten to know. Though he could be agreeable to a certain extent with subjects, in general he was the most unmovable man ever. After all, he'd been so stubborn to stay with Hub City for so many years in spite of a lost cause in many people's eyes, stubborn to pull through for Ted, stubborn enough to stay alive against all odds.

Stubborn enough to try to protect him needlessly.

Stupid jerk.

Ted found a chair in the darkness - which meant a bit of bumbling around - and pulled it up by the mattress. Not very surprising, Vic was not asleep, and turned himself to eyed at the inventor darkly.

"Supposed to be asleep," Vic told him sharply.

"So are you. Guess we just love breakin' the rules."

An irritated sigh escaped the Question. "It was nothing; no need to check."

"Yeah, except you're having crazy nightmares since that Psychopomp guy went into your head, right?" Blue Beetle narrowed his eyes. "Booster didn't have to tell me to get me to figure that one out, Vic. But it's gotten real bad tonight."

"It's nothing."

"The hell it is!" Ted had wisen up to not slamming his fist against things anymore, considering his newfound strength as of late; so instead, he gripped his fist tightly. Which was sparking wildly with electricity. Noting this, Ted grumbled and took in a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. "I'm serious, Vic. You have to tell me these things so I can at least try to help, all right? What were your nightmares about?"

"Don't want to talk about it."

Ted muttered something possibly obscene under his breath as he held onto the bridge of his nose. "Vic, stop trying to be an unmovable rock. 'Cuz yer not. So tell me or I'll possibly break something without meaning to."

"You died," the Question told him.

"Yes, I did. I was there," Ted remarked flatly.

"Nightmare. You died. Repeated itself. Was in Max's point of view, so... **I **was pulling the trigger."

"Oh." Ted hesitated. "How detailed...?"

Vic frowned. "Much more vivid than would like to say..."

"So, every night?"

"Every night. Dream it. Something else, can't comprehend it very well. Something with Max. Tonight, bad. A ... woman was burning."

That made Ted wince. "Do you know who she was?"

"Couldn't tell," the Question admitted. "Don't know how important it is. Don't know... Just can't sleep."

As much as Ted had declared that he would help, he wasn't entirely positive if he could. Holding his chin, frowning and thinking, he tried to consider what little options he had. "Well... I know you don't want to. I don't blame you - but you need to sleep, Vic. You're sick, you have to rest. But I'll tell you what, okay? I'll sit right here. So whenever you wake up, you know I'm not dead."

"That's not necessary..."

"Hell if it isn't," Ted scoffed. "When Booster comes back with water, you drink it and go back to sleep. Don't argue with me, okay? You need to sleep."

The Question watched him carefully; his face had stubbornly held onto a relatively calm but stern expression before, but he had let it go and allowed himself to look weary - perhaps disturbed, even, considering his consistant nightmares throughout each night since his mind had been invaded. Letting out a quiet sigh, Vic asked, "You'll stay?"

"Yep."

Slowly, Vic nodded. "...Fine." He lowered his head against the pillow.

It was satisfying, for the moment; though, for future nights, Ted knew he was going to have to figure something else out. It was ridiculous to even consider doing this every night to make sure that Vic would sleep. He needed a way for someone to really get in touch and help him.

Well, it wasn't as if he didn't know psychics...

In spite of feeling angry at the League, it was an option, if only there was no other choice. At this point, it was not a good idea to make Vic see a therapist. Maybe he wouldn't be happy at all to see someone with psychic powers or anything of the like, but Ted knew he had to find him some help.

Somehow.

For now, he was just satisfied to have Vic sleep for the night.

---

Early October, and it was snowing lightly. Some might call it "flurries", but snow was snow was snow. And any form of snow was downright evil in Booster's book. Which was probably why so many supervillains had the 'ice' thing for their gimmick. Icicle, Mr. Freeze, Captain Cold, Coldblaine, and so on. It never, ever ended.

It almost, almost made him miss Kooey-Kooey-Kooey.

Almost.

It was the afternoon, and for the tenth time that week - and it was only **Tuesday **- he'd been given chicken soup. It turned out that Vic was perfectly capable of cooking - but he never wanted to. Ted had convinced (i.e., threatened him for over an hour until Vic got tired of it) him to make soup. After all, two out of three of them were still stuck with a cold, even if the Question liked to pretend he was one hundred percent healthy.

It was a fact that Vic had it worse off than Booster Gold about their respective illnesses.

"My nose hurts," Booster whined after he finished blowing his nose. "What's this tissue made out of, wood chips?"

"Aloe costs too much," Vic muttered, eyeing at his bowl of chicken noodle soup - which, by the way, had several wonderful green vegetables Ted threw in (Vic did not appreciate this).

"So? Batman's funding us."

"I'm not using his money," the Question mumbled bitterly.

Booster snorted - or tried, with his stuffed nose. "Why not?"

"Want nothing to do with them. Them. Batman, and the JLA."

"Way I see it - they **owe **us."

Question shrugged. "Want nothing to do with them..." He eventually stood up with the filled bowl in his hand, starting to make his way towards the bathroom.

However, just as he was walking in the direction, Ted had come around from the hallway, snagging Vic's arm. "You're **not **flushing it down the toilet this time."

"...Wasn't going to-"

"Yeah yeah yeah, SIT DOWN." The inventor led Vic back to the sofa. "And eat. Or do I have feed you with a spoon again?"

Vic merely grumbled in response, reluctantly taking his seat at the couch.

What came next shocked all three of the men. It wasn't a sound they expected to hear, nor should they have. After all, they were relatively isolated from the rest of the city, and practically the world, in spite of their suburbian neighborhood. They had made little to no attempts to be acquainted with neighbors, for all of their different reasons - dead rodents and cops aside. They should have only heard that sound after receiving a phone call from the JLA, **if **they were going to come.

At any rate... the door had been knocked on.

None of them moved for all of a minute, when the knocking sound came a second time.

"I'll get it," Vic said darkly, absolutely prepared to take a violent approach - or, likely, he was eager to.

Ted held up his hand. "No you don't - you're going to EAT, you're going to SLEEP, and YOU ARE GOING TO LIKE IT."

"Can you like... use your x-ray vision or whatever to see who it is?" Booster peered at him.

"It's called feng shui, and no. I'm sick, and I can't use **Sight**."

"Ah-HA! You admit you're ill!" Ted pointed at the Question.

Vic glared at him. "Let me go see who it is."

"And do what, if it's an enemy? Probably waste the soup by throwing it at them, that's what! You're not getting around your greens, Vic. Eat your goddamned food. **I'll **check." Ted folded his arms. "I don't wanna hear you trying to talk me out of it, either!" Turning around sharply, the inventor cautiously approached the door.

"So, this... fang shoe..." Booster wondered.

"Feng shui."

"Didn't I say that? Is it like... the Force?"

Vic peered at him.

"You know. Jedi mind tricks and stuff."

The Question did something he didn't do very often. He sighed and held his head. Then, he muttered, "Pop culture references from Michael. My day's complete. ...Do I still have to eat this?"

"YES!" Ted shouted in response from the front door.

Where Blue Beetle was, he had tried to get to his toes to peer through the peephole. However, it was apparently made for people with the height of Atom Smasher since he couldn't reach it. With a sigh, he hesitantly undid the five locks Vic installed two weeks ago, including the extra three Batman had put in, and the two the house came with.

Seven goddamned locks. Why did he have to have a paranoid landlord and roommate?

Making the door ajar, Ted hesitantly looked through the crack... then his eyes widened in surprise.

"Ted!" The door was forced open, and the inventor was pulled into a tight hug by a green-haired woman. "I'm so glad you're okay, and thank GOD nobody ever stays dead these days!"

"Bea!" Ted was still shocked. "How'd you-?"

Beatriz DaCosta gently released him, looking cross about the half-asked question. "It was all over the headlines weeks ago: Blue Beetle Found Dead, or R.I.P. Blue Beetle, and all that. Newcasters went on and on, conspiracies... I finally went to the JLA and was **this close** to frying Superman's sorry cute butt if he didn't tell me what happened. But he did, and I still don't get it. Not that it matters; you're okay, and I'm glad. The JLA gave me the address, so I packed my bags and here I am! You going to let me in or what? It's freezing out here."

"Booster apparently agrees with you about the cold." Ted stepped aside, shaking his head and grinning faintly.

Beatriz picked up the two suitcases she had with her, stepping inside. "Nice place. You couldn't have possibly afforded it."

"Thanks for your blatant honesty, but you're right. It's one of Batman's. He's basically lending it to us." Ted shut the door.

"Who is it?" Booster called out.

"Whoever it is, they'd better like soup with every possible bitter tasting vegetable in existence..." the Question muttered to himself.

Setting down her bags, Beatriz stepped into the living room swiftly, holding out her arms. "Ta-dah!" There was a pause as both men stared at her, one in surprise and one with a flat expression. "...Well, don't you look miserable! And here so many of us said 'Booster's too stupid to catch a cold'."

However, even the jab at his intelligence didn't seem to bruise his pride or surprise for the moment. "Fire! You couldn't have been here SOONER - I've had this cold way too long now!"

"Insinuation does wonders for the mind," Vic murmured, still poking at his soup. To himself, he mumbled, "Green. Bitter. Hate it." He paused, glancing up to peer at Beatriz. "Never met you."

"Then it's a pleasure. Even the dyed hair doesn't fool me, Mr. Vic Sage." Beatriz smiled broadly, placing a delicate-looking finger to her lips. "You look better in real life than on the television screen. Haven't done any reports lately, though, I see."

"Not capable. Incapable. Can't."

"Hard to believe you'd hide your face when you're tearing up the streets," Beatriz mused. "Oh, does the poor boy also have a cold?"

Ted approached from the front of the house after having dealt with Fire's bags, rolling his eyes. "I wouldn't call Question 'poor' at all. It was his fault, and he's being so damned stubborn about eating. Vic, didn't your mom ever make you eat your greens?"

Vic narrowed his eyes, and didn't respond. The reaction wasn't exactly one Ted had expected, but didn't have a chance to say much when Fire spoke up again.

"Ted, Ted. If you want to make someone do something, especially a man, you pet their pride and give them incentive," Beatriz told the inventor.

"Y'know, if you wanna give Ted advice, you should probably do it when we're not in hearing range," Booster pointed out, gesturing with his spoon.

"With loads of irony in my DIET now, you aren't the one who's giving me a hard time," Ted remarked, jabbing a thumb towards Vic.

"Well then!" Beatriz circled around the couch, sitting down beside Vic, smiling brightly. "What's this I hear about Ted having died and all? Not that anyone's outright announced Ted Kord's death, but everyone's talking about Blue Beetle. I haven't really checked with KORD, Inc.; I suppose they may have marked you missing at the moment."

"It'd figure," Ted murmured.

However, immediately after Ted made his remark, Vic was blunt with his answer, "Maxwell Lord shot Ted. He died. Scarab brought him back. You want my soup?"

"**Vic**!"

"Wait, what? **What**!" Beatriz glanced between primarily Booster Gold and Blue Beetle. "Max? Max killed you?"

A bit sheepishly, Booster scratched his head. "It's, uh... well, it's complicated! ...Is it complicated?" He looked at Ted, as if to make sure.

"Yes, it's very complicated," Ted agreed.

"Max killed Ted because he knew too much about Checkmate and refused to join him in his quest of self-justified metahuman wipe-out," Vic explained flatly. "Are you going to eat my soup?"

"Stop trying to give your soup away!" Ted snapped at him.

"**What**?" Beatriz had her hands clenched tightly into fists, her eyes darting between Ted and Booster. "What the hell is going on?"

"Funny, she was so damned happy just a minute ago," Booster noted.

Ted rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Unfortunately, Vic has this effect on people..."

"Maxwell Lord is involved in the government program Checkmate. His goal is to either wipe out metahumans or at least control them because they're considered a danger to the world from his perspective. Ted found out after going by some leads and found his hideout. By himself, because Michael was hospitalized and no one in the League decided it was worth their time to listen to him. Max asked Ted to join him. Ted said no. Max shot Ted. Ted came to me afterwards, asking for help. I did. Got Michael's help. Scarab brought Ted to life. Has powers now. Here we are. I don't want to eat this." Vic eyed the inventor.

"Tough cookies. Eat it."

"I wish it was a cookie," Vic mumbled.

Beatriz let out a heavy sigh. "Superman tried to give me an explanation, and it was only half of that and I still... I can barely process this. **Max**? Ted, is he right...?"

"That's one thing I won't joke about," Blue Beetle told her flatly. "As unbelievable as it is."

"It was him," Booster assured. "It was. Not that, uh, I saw him... shoot Ted, but... I know it was him. I saw him with Checkmate, and it's not like he denied anything."

"It's just... of all people, Max? Max Lord, our sleezy businessman Max Lord? I can't really wrap my head around it." Beatriz shook her head. "I believe you guys, but... it's just... Max. You know?"

"I know," Vic muttered, darker then his tone had been previously.

"So, the reason why you're all cooped up in this house - along with dying your hair I can see - is to hide?"

Booster Gold rubbed his chin. "Well, I dunno about you, but I'm pretty happy with not running all over the country trying to hide from a government faction so intent on trying to blow me up or whatever. Hiding's kinda okay with me right now. Keeps us very very alive."

"Batman funds the house and expenses, basically. Have our own accounts. Going by different names - **GGHNUF**." Vic found his mouth stuffed with a spoonful of his soup, and he glared at Ted.

Beatriz stared at both of them, raising her brow. However, at being given a lack of explanation, she decided to simply shake her head at both of them, continuing on with the conversation. "Well, I have to say, Booster - you looked much better as a blonde. But, I suppose if you're going to be in hiding, it's all very suiting-" Fire was cut off by the sound of the phone ringing.

Sighing heavily, Ted dropped the spoon back into Vic's bowl. "I'll get it. You, eat your damned soup." Blue Beetle stepped away from the other three, traveling down the hall to the kitchen.

Snagging the phone, he answered with a bit of hesitance, "Hello?"

"Ted?" the other side asked hopefully.

"Barbara!" The day was just full of surprises. Oracle was calling him.

The voice sounded pleasant. "That's my name, it's already worn out. Ted, I'm so sorry for-"

"Hey, look. Apologies? Later. Much later. I already have Bea here finding out what's up. Pleasant surprise and all, but... it can wait. Thanks, though."

"Ted." She sighed. "Ted, it really bothers me. We should have listened, done something-"

"You did try, Barb," he pointed out. "So don't worry about it, okay? And seriously, right now, I don't want to think about it. What's up?"

"Checking up on you boys, mostly. All three of you okay?"

"They both have a cold and Vic refuses to eat soup and is going to drive me up the wall since he's freaking out the neighbors and getting detectives to investigate us - but otherwise? Hunky dory."

Barbara was smirking. "Sounds absolutely normal, then, as normal as our lives can possibly be. Look, Ted... I understand things have been a strain, right?"

"Obviously, with the kind of roommates I have and the fact that I have to hide from Checkmate and top of everything else? Yes."

"Okay. Then you can't blame me for arranging you an appointment with a doctor at the medical center that's downtown from where you are."

Ted's eyes narrowed. "Barb..." He wasn't really looking forward to leaving the household. "I don't need to check with a doctor-"

"Yes you do. You have a heart condition, you've been under a lot of strain from all of the crap you've been through - you are going to see a doctor. All three of you. You? You have an appointment today at 3:20. I'm e-mailing you the address, along with the rest of the appointments for Booster and Victor."

Ted let out a sigh.

"You don't want to leave the house, do you?" Barbara sounded concerned.

"Not really," Ted grumbled. "Sorry. I just... you know, don't feel comfortable leaving. With what's been going on. You know, my house blew up? Then the Bug - it's kinda gotten to the point where I... well..."

"You don't feel safe anywhere?"

"No. I feel sorta safe here. Just... not really **outside**."

Barbara sighed. "Ted, that's not healthy."

"Duh. I know that, but that's not really my fault either," Ted told her bitterly.

"No, it's not. ...Ted, you have the scarab, right?"

"Actually it's inside of me. Left a tattoo on me."

"Right. And it gave you powers?"

"Yes. Why?" Ted frowned.

"Ted, you have powers now. If you have the same as your predecessor, you have strength, lightning powers, and flight. I think, out of you, Booster, and Victor, you have the least to worry about. You don't have to worry. Besides, I know that Booster and Victor are going to watch your back. Okay?"

"Yeah."

"Good. If you need anything - and I mean it, Ted - you can call me. Now, make sure you see that doctor, and you tell me how you are."

Ted nodded, even though she couldn't see. "All right."

"Okay. Talk to you later, Ted." Barbara hung up.

"Right." Placing down the phone, he turned towards the living room hesitantly, scowling. Ted really didn't want to have to go...

But he also knew it was for his own good.

As soon as he stepped into the living room, he somehow didn't feel very surprised at finding what he found.

"I could do it!" Booster snapped at Beatriz.

"Uh-huh, I'm very sure. After all, you're not a blonde anymore," Bea mused under her breath.

"I could! I'm more responsible than you think, Bea!"

"Or you think you're more responsible than you're capable of thinking," Fire remarked.

"I, uh... whatever you said, it's totally not that!"

"I rest my case.

"This might come as a surprise to you, but I'm not entirely comfortable sitting in the middle of two people arguing," Vic announced in a low tone.

"Especially when one of them can burst into flames?" Ted supplied.

Booster turned to face his best friend, frowning deeply. "Bea's treating me like I can't uphold any kind of responsibility."

"Specifically a job," Bea elaborated. "How often has he screwed that up?"

"At least Ted screwed up with me!"

"Ted had KORD, Inc. under a lot of **responsible **and **mature **control before he died," Bea clarified.

"What about Q? He hasn't done a broadcast in a long time!" Booster pointed out.

"It was a personal preference to stop. Don't confuse it with maturity," Vic told him flatly.

Ted held up his hands. "As much as I'm sure it's lovely to hear you all bicker, I have to go. Oracle set me up with an appointment with a doctor."

"Is there somethin' wrong?" Booster frowned.

"No, no. Just a check up, you know. She set you and Vic for appointments, too, but I don't know when." Ted shrugged. "Look. Try not to break windows or burn down the house or something while I'm gone, okay?"

It shouldn't have been surprising, considering incidents as of late, to hear a concerned tone from the Question. But he was still surprised, hearing him say, "Be careful. Yes?"

"I'll be fine. Going to print out the directions and go." Waving his hand, Blue Beetle turned and went for the computer.

"So, let me ask: what do you boys do around here?" Beatriz tilted her head.

Vic murmured, "Define 'do'."

"Besides sitting on your behinds and watching TV?" the green-haired woman elaborated.

"Take walks. Ted reads a lot."

"Sometimes Q does something and it leads to wacky hijinks," Booster added.

"For heaven's sake - was it just my imagination that I didn't see a car in the driveway!" Beatriz frowned. "Batman funds you three, right?"

"Yeah," Booster responded, confused.

"Good. Vic, I'm going to take you out to come with me and get a car." The green-haired woman stood up, but not without snagging the Question's arm first.

Raising his head to eye her, the Human Enigma appeared faintly skeptical. "What about this soup?"

"Do you want to eat it?"

"...No."

"Good, leave it behind. Get yourself ready - we're going to go out. Right now."

"Wait a second!" Booster frowned, looking up at both of them, particularly Beatriz. "What about me?"

Placing a finger to her chin, she quirked a brow before asking, "Good question - what **about **you?"

"**Hey**!" Booster scowled at her. "Why don't I get to go? Q has to pretend he's blind anyway! It's not like he can help pick!"

"Yes, but I'm sure he'll be reasonable company."

"Only because he doesn't want to eat his veggies!" Booster accused.

However, the Question could only shrug and say, "True..."

"Oh, don't fret, Booster. Vic, be a dear and go get ready?" Beatriz nudged the Question faintly.

The dark-haired man glanced over his shoulder at her, brow lifted faintly. Turning his head to Booster, he placed a hand lightly to his shoulder in silence before stepping out of the living room, Bea following.

"Okay, leaving now! ...Oh crap, where the heck did Bea and Vic disappear to?" As soon as Ted walked into the living room, a look of dread formed on his face as soon as he realized both the Question and Fire were missing.

With his arms folded and - heaven help him, but he was - pouting, Booster eyed up to his best friend. "Bea took him to go buy a car."

"Ten minutes and that woman is already making demands," Ted grumbled. "...Wait, what? What the crap! Vic didn't finish his soup."

"What're you gonna do, ground him?"

Holding up a finger, Blue Beetle told him, "I swear, if that's what it takes, I **will**. Didn't his parents ever discipline him? Jeez!" He paused, taking a careful look at his friend, scowling faintly. Noting the pout, he let out a quiet sigh before asking, "What's the matter?"

"Bea's not letting me come."

"Look, we're not abandoning you or anything, Booster. Don't let her get you all worked up." Ted waved the sheet of paper in his hand. "You know, she keeps insisting that you aren't responsible, or maybe haven't changed - well, most people wouldn't believe that, but that's not important - so you should do something about it. Prove her wrong."

Lifting his head, Booster only looked baffled. "How?"

"I dunno. Get a job or something. You know, whatever screams responsible at you." Checking his watch, Ted frowned. "Look, I gotta go - don't let her get to you, okay? You like being a pain in ass, she likes being a pain in the ass, and Vic just kind of has a knack for it without needing to enjoy it. It's like a system of things. Just don't let her get to you, and prove her wrong. I know you can." Turning, Ted quickly stepped out.

It took a minute for it to sink in. Get a job? Of all times? Booster could only pout more at the idea.

It was irritating. Sure, before, he could be called out at being irresponsible. And once, he did believe that people and things didn't change - not deep down. To extent, he felt right. He felt right about that, until recently. Things had changed so drastically - and people did change, too. The League had changed from what he had once known, he realized bitterly sometime ago. And even though Ted was still his best friend, he had changed, too. Often, Booster wondered if it was for the worst, considering all that had happened. Surely, Booster had also changed. He was more responsible - but deep down, who he was hadn't really changed. And that was good.

But he could be responsible. Hell, he'd have to prove it. Especially to Beatriz.

He leaned over and peered at the newspaper neatly folded on the table.

Booster Gold opened it to check the 'help wanted' ads.

---

"So you play blind?" Beatriz mused, gently holding onto Vic's arm as they strolled down the sidewalk. "You have me convinced."

"Have just about the entire police force convinced," the Question remarked.

The pair had gone in the opposite direction Ted had left in; up the street to the nearby bus station was where they were headed. Beatriz had every intention of getting to a car dealership immediately. It wasn't as if cost was necessarily an issue or anything, but Vic certainly had less degrees of excitement than his female companion.

Bea raised a brow. "The police...?"

"There was an investigator bothering us. Took us down for questioning. Convinced the police was blind." Vic sounded vaguely amused. "Have had to act plenty in the past. Not difficult. Surprised Ted."

"I'll bet," she chuckled. There was a pause after she had mused over Vic's compact version of the story, then asked softly, "How've the two troublemakers been?"

"Disturbed. Possibly still in shock. Neither sleep well. But then, neither do I. Been recovering better. Think your visit will do well for them." There was a faint frown from the dark-haired man. "They don't have good sentiments towards many others, especially in the League. I don't, either."

Taking a moment to stop by the sign of the bus station, Bea turned to fully face the Question. "Look, I understand that some members of League were a bit stuck-up - hell, I know Batman can be. When isn't he? But that's not a reason to blame them all."

"What was it like, when you were part of the League?" he inquired abruptly.

"Frustrating, especially with all of the trouble Booster and Beetle got us into and with Guy there, how could I not be annoyed? But... you know, I miss those days," Beatriz admitted. "Batman wasn't as uptight, and I miss J'onn and... what's your point?"

"What's the League like now?" Vic didn't wait for her to answer. "It's a business association. They work together, and that's all. They're constantly in fear of one another, gaining too much power. Which is why they simply tolerate each other to a level. Your League was different. Your League was a family. **Was**. This one isn't the one you knew."

"And do you have any proof of that?" Bea narrowed her eyes.

"There's a satellite in the sky that spies on the League, on all people who consider themselves heroes. Ted deleted these files to help save us all - with little gratitude from the League," Vic hissed sharply. "And would you like to know who made this satellite? It wasn't Maxwell Lord. He merely attained it. No, the satellite is one of Batman's exclusively failed plans."

This was something she found almost difficult to believe - almost. If only because Batman was one of the most paranoid people she had ever come to know. "A satellite? Spying on us?"

"Every metahuman, every costumed individual, every masked citizen. Files on all of us. You, Michael, Superman, Wonder Woman, the Atom, Ted, me - he didn't miss a person. And that was Max's advantage. Not the first time someone has taken Batman's plans for their own personal gain," the Question told her. "Ted only knew that there was a satellite, that there were files being used by Checkmate. ...But he doesn't know their origins."

"You haven't told him?"

Vic frowned. "I don't like the League. He knows that. You know that. I don't like a lot of people. ...But I like Ted. And I don't like upsetting him."

There was a pause between them as this was processed to the green-haired woman, and then Beatriz peered at the Question faintly before smiling softly. "Thanks for taking care of them. If I'd known... do you believe me, when I say I would have helped them?"

"I do. You're different. Some bare few in costumes and with powers are different." Vic leaned his head back. "There's an exception to every rule."

"Shall I take that as a compliment?"

"If you want."

Beatriz grinned faintly. "So they say you're crazy. Unsocial as they come, even compared to Batman..."

"Who is 'they'?"

"It's what Superman had to say about you."

Vic snorted. "Would you like to hear what I have to say about Superman?"

"Oh, I can imagine that just fine, thanks," Bea smirked. "But my point is, why did you agree to come with me?"

"I'm waiting to see what the real reason is of this trip. You'll tell me eventually," the Question told her.

This seemed to alarm Beatriz faintly, and she frowned silently in response.

The bus finally pulled up to the stop.

---

Ted couldn't help but feel a bit of anxiety.

He was positive that Oracle had good intentions and all. After all, the entire series of events as of late were strenuous on him; it'd be stupid to not check on his heart. Though he'd been positive he hadn't felt anything, heart-wise.

But then, could be that male machoism telling him stubbornly that he was perfectly okay.

The check-up was simple. A physical, checking his pulse, heart rate, and so on. It didn't keep Ted from feeling nervous about the results.

So once he heard the doctor speak, he wasn't sure how to respond. "Looks like you're perfectly okay, Mr. Parker."

The brunet paused, frowning. "I... what?"

"You're fine. Healthy as a horse, as they say. All that."

Ted hesitated. That... couldn't be true. "But, uh. You know, um. My family's been known for heart conditions. Are you sure...?"

The doctor let out a soft sigh, smiling and shaking his head. "Mr. Parker, I'm positive. Your heart is steady, your pulse is great, you've obviously been keeping in shape - the only thing that caught my attention was that tattoo of yours. You're in perfect condition; I'd stake my job on it."

Somehow, Ted could only feel skeptical. Probably because he hadn't had a track record of 'good luck' lately. Was it possible that he didn't have anything wrong with him anymore (stress aside)?

The scarab did heal all of the injuries he had before he died. Broken arm, burns, head... wound and all. Maybe his heart, too?

"Um. Okay." Ted rubbed the back of his head.

It was rare to hear good news, he mused as he stepped out of the office.

About damned time, too.

---

"So what do you like? A Lexus?"

"No. Reminds me of Luthor."

"Please don't say 'Ford'..."

"At least it rhymes with 'Kord'."

Beatriz peered at her companion. "You're going to begin to frighten me soon."

"'Soon'?" the Question muttered drily.

The pair had arrived into the car dealership, with Beatriz leading the way with her arm still linked to Vic's. She was finding rather quickly that it was going to be a bit difficult to get the Question to even care about getting a vehicle. It didn't seem the least bit important to him. He seemed to have it in his mind that there was some other reason why she had dragged him out there.

Which, there was, but that was no reason to suspect of her priorities. Really.

"Isn't there any kind of car that you like? You know, most men are very specific about their vehicles," Fire pointed out.

"'Most men'," Vic quoted. "Even from what little you know of me, you know that I'm not most men, Beatriz. Care more about gang members in the streets than the kind of transportation I'm going to use. Should have taken Ted or Booster instead - if that was your real objective. But it isn't. Why are we really out here?"

"What? I can't have a little innocent outing with a friend of friends?"

"Not this time."

Beatriz raised a brow at him. "So I have a hidden agenda?"

"Just because it's hidden doesn't make it necessarily bad," the Question told her. "But would prefer you to be more honest. Want to know the real reason we're out here."

"Look, I..." Fire glanced around hesitantly, then nodded to a few chairs conveniently set up inside of the dealership. Leading the dark-haired man over to it, the pair sat down as she took in a deep breath. "I'm still trying to absorb everything. I know this is going to sound silly, but did you ever hear of the 'Superbuddies'?"

Vic raised a brow behind his sunglasses. "No."

"Not surprising. Maxwell Lord's idea, a couple of years back. He dragged out a few of us - Ted, Booster, myself, Ralph Dibny, even Sue was there, Captain Atom for awhile, Mary Marvel volunteered... Anyway. It's just hard to believe that someone like him would be behind all of this, Vic. It's... nuts. It doesn't even feel possible." Beatriz frowned. "But it's true, isn't it? Checkmate, him, all of it...?"

"Every single thing. No reason to lie to you."

"Yeah well." Moving a hand through her hair, the green-haired woman glowered as she continued to think about it. "The Maxwell Lord we knew, all of that time - he wasn't some scheming, horrible man. ...In general, anyway. Sure, we all got on each other's nerves, but ... we cared about each other, Vic. That part's true. I swear, it is. How could Max do such a thing?" Clenching her hands, Beatriz had a twisted cross between a grimace and a snarl as she looked at Vic. "How could he **do **that! That's not the same guy we worked with! It isn't!"

In a horribly calm voice, Vic told her, "Maxwell Lord shot Ted, at the top of his skull, immediately killing him after Ted refused to join him. I know it was him. Things may have changed more drastically than you really know from back when you were with the League."

"How do you know it was really him!" she hissed, seething; the tops of her hands were sparkling with flames.

"Because I have nightmares about it, every night now. Because I could **See **it, when Ted came to me after he died. I have the ability to **See **what others can't, in a different plane of existence. I **See **energy, chi - of our cities and forests and deserts and everything beyond that in our planet, including those who have died. Those who can't let go or were condemned and damned to their death, those who are still in torment. When I **Saw **him, that he was dead, I **Saw **what happened to him." To, presumably, distract himself, Vic was rubbing his thumb over the top of his cane. "How he died. Not quite in graphic detail, since it was on a different plane of existence that I **Saw**, but I could **See **it. Max killed him. And that's the utter truth that maybe the League wants to conceal, too."

Beatriz lowered her head, letting out an angry shudder, frustrated - but the flames went out from her hands. "I just don't understand it. How could things have turned out this way? From 'bwa-ha-ha' to insane lunatic out to kill us all."

"Things change. And not for the better, always," Vic said quietly.

"Wise words from the experienced?"

"It took me several changes to accept it as a fact," the Question muttered lowly.

Lifting her head, Bea took in a deep breath through her nose, fingers rubbing at her eyes. "Sorry... I..."

"Something in your eye?" Vic offered.

Smiling wryly, Beatriz looked at him. "Yeah."

"Why did you bring me instead of Ted or Michael?"

"I don't think I could have been very well composed in front of them. I know them a lot more personally than I do you, Vic. Besides, you seem like a straight forward kind of guy; it would have been easier to get answers from you - ironically, Mr. Question." Bea smirked softly. "Do you think Ted and Booster can mend things with the League?"

"That's up to them. Me, never had anything to do with them in the first place - not my business. If they want to stay mad, that's up to them. They've been ignored. Can relate to that."

Letting out a sigh, Beatriz shrugged. "Guess you know how to be optimistic," she grumbled.

"I'm a realist. Michael is an optimist," Vic told her. "But optimism has nothing to do with it. Just don't like the League, personally. If you want them to forgive the League, that's something you deal with. Not me."

"Right, right." Beatriz rolled her eyes faintly. "Well, come on. I'm not leaving this place until we grab a car."

---

When Ted arrived home, nobody had been there, not even Booster. While he was a bit concerned about what trouble Beatriz, Vic, and Booster could get into, alone or together or in a pair somehow, being without them was also stress-free. It was a mixed blessing.

Letting out a soft sigh, he flopped onto the couch, ignoring the fact that it had been claimed by two sick people, feeling far too good to let that bother him about his health.

He was fine. No more heart condition. No disease, anything. Blue Beetle was completely healthy, and he felt incredible.

Ted turned over onto his back, staring at the ceiling. When Beatriz had arrived earlier for the visit, it had been a pleasant surprise. He did wonder how long she intended to stay - but immediately, he didn't feel like that mattered much. It was good to see her, and it made him faintly wonder about others he knew. Just how determined was anyone else who was wearing spandex or had once to see him and Booster? (He would have included Vic into the thought, but he did recall, from what he knew of him, that he didn't have many friends, especially those of the costumed variety considering his dislike for the League)

Hopefully, he wasn't going to be expecting a blubbering G'nort at his front door.

Ted winced at the thought.

It was then he heard the door slam shut with Booster calling out, "I'm baaaaack! Anyone home?"

"Booster?" Sitting up, Ted looked over his shoulder. "Hey - how'd it go?"

Looking incredibly smug, Booster approached, carrying a box with him. "I, the incredibly responsible Booster Gold, have gotten a job." He held out a booklet to the brunet.

Taking it, Beetle read outloud, "Get-a-Pet?"

"I work at a pet store!" Booster told him, completely full of glee. "And I got Question something!"

"What? A fish? I'm not sure if he could even keep a pet rock alive, Booster."

"No, seriously, this completely suits him." Setting the box down at the coffee table, Booster pulled a small tank out. "Check it out!" He held it out to show his friend.

Who immediately screamed at the top of his lungs, launching from the couch in flight and a small explosion of electricity, clinging to the ceiling.

Booster peered up at Ted. "You really think he'll hate it that much?"

"You got him a spider!"

"A tarantula," Booster specified.

"It's got eight legs, it's freaky, it's a **spider**!"

Frowning, Booster considered this. "You know, your name is a bug, too. Bugs don't freak you out."

"Beetles are totally different from spiders!" Ted told him sharply.

"Uh-huh," Booster responded, not sounding entirely convinced. "You think Q will like it?"

"Heck, I dunno, maybe he has a fetish for eight-legged things for all I know."

"Great! I'll leave it-"

"Not here! Not here!" Ted begged.

Rolling his eyes, Booster said, "Not here." Turning, he left with the tarantula to the kitchen.

"Dear God, not in the kitchen! I go there to eat!"

"It'll be fine! Jeez!"

---

"Vans?"

"Not really."

"Jeeps?"

"No."

Beatriz let out a heavy sigh. "What kind of car have you driven in the past?"

It was at this that the Question hesitated, turning his head aside. "It wasn't mine," he told her. "It was my friend's... I'm not sure if they'd have one like it here, honestly."

"What? What was it?" Bea turned, trying to get face-to-face with him. "Come on, we can try. Just tell me what it was. It'd be a start."

"Volkswagon beetle."

"Oh." Beatriz rolled her eyes. "Was it blue, too?"

"Red, actually," Vic told her. "It belonged to my best friend, Dr. Aristotle Rodor. ...Used to get it pretty banged up a lot. Never got upset with me about that..."

Bea's expression softened faintly. "Looks like we've all lost a best friend at some time or another?"

"...Yes."

"I can relate," Beatriz murmured.

"I know..." Vic sighed softly, seemingly wanting to say something else, but did not. "..."

"What is it?"

Vic kepted his face turned a different direction. "Michael is lucky..."

Smirking, Beatriz told him, "He can be. But you know - Ted's our friend. I can't say I wanna argue with fate too much right now."

"I know that, too." Vic frowned, nodding. "Would not change it for anything. Would not change having him alive for anything else. ...When he didn't realize it before, he reminded me to live. Sometime ago."

"He can be a sweetie, even without realizing it. Oh, the charm of Ted Kord." Bea smirked. "Come on. We'll go ask if they have any Volkswagons."

Continuing to take lead, Beatriz approached the center of the dealership for the main desk. It was a surprise when a man approached them, very apparently not a car salesman; he was about Vic's height and wearing similar clothes, all down to the fedora, but had an arm in a cast and sling, along with a bandage patch on his cheek. She paused and frowned faintly.

Luckily, he spoke first, "Mr. Murdock."

Vic didn't hide a sneer. "Nick Bounty. What do you want?"

"Answers, of course."

"Clearly, you're asking the wrong person," Bea muttered under her breath.

Nick turned his head to look at her, frowning. "Have we... met? You look familiar."

Smiling broadly, she told him darkly, "No, we have not."

"And who might you be?" Nick lifted a brow.

"Am I obligated to answer?"

Nick shrugged with one shoulder. "I'm a cop, you just might be."

"Someone who shouldn't be pestering us," Vic responded flatly. "Am I going to have to call the department on you, Nick?"

"It wouldn't matter either way, Matt. I know what I know, and that's more important than my job. I investigate, and I find criminals and crazies and put them away - if I find out you're one of them, count on being dragged kicking and screaming to be put behind bars," Nick responded sharply.

"Excuse me - you'd better watch your tone, Mr. Bounty," Beatriz growled.

"And you - what the heck is your relation to him? You don't live with Matt, Peter, and Scott."

Beatriz looked smug. "For now."

Nick looked amused. "Really?" Vic, who could not keep from looking a bit baffled, mouthed 'really?'

"Yes. Matthew and I are engaged. I'm moving in shortly," Beatriz informed him firmly.

"Oh?"

"We'll be getting married soon. And you're **not **invited."

Vic remained absolutely silent.

"Oh, well..." Nick glanced towards the dark-haired man. "I didn't realize..."

"Of course you didn't," Beatriz told him haughtily. "Do you mind? You're in our way."

At a loss of words, Nick stepped aside; immediately, Beatriz took Vic with her, leading him to the desk where they were originally headed for.

"Thank you," Vic told her quietly.

"But of course," she responded, smirking.

"And **never **lie for me again."

Beatriz let out a sigh. "So sensitive, aren't we? Don't worry, I'd never dream of being weighed down by marriage with anyone, no matter how cute they look."

---

"If I find that thing in the bathtub, or... or anywhere! I swear, it's gonna be a **squished **terrifyingly hairy spider!"

Sighing, Booster carried the tank under his arm from the kitchen. "It'll be fine. Jeez. Stop getting so worked up over a small thing."

"That thing is NOT small! It's hideously huge and... and... and hideous!" Ted pointed wildly at the tank as his friend walked by, staying by the ceiling fan.

"Uh-huh. Look, I'll just leave it in the front of the house at a table so it'll be a nice surprise for Q, okay?"

"What if someone knocks on the **door**!" Ted complained.

Booster shrugged before he set the tank down at one of the tables. "I'll answer it. You're kinda busy being up there right now, anyway."

However, the door was not knocked upon; it merely opened, with both Beatriz and Vic reentering. After the door was shut, the Question took off his sunglasses and set aside the cane by the door, but immediately glanced towards Booster. "...What's in the tank...?"

"Oh, well..." Booster was about to begin before Ted yelled out.

"It's a** freak of nature**!"

"It is not!" Booster shouted back. "Anyway, I went out and got a job at a pet store! And, um... well, since we don't really go out and do anything, and I know that we're not exactly personal or whatever, but I thought, well... you know, we could use more company! Well, you mostly. I guess it's kind of like a thank you gift? Er, yeah! Anyway, here! It's for you, Question." He offered the tank out to the dark-haired man.

When Vic silently took it into his hands to look inside, Bea also peered, looking mildly offended. "It's a spider."

"Tarantula!" Booster told her.

"Hmm," Vic mused softly.

Rubbing the back of his head, Booster looked at him carefully. "Do you like it?"

Tilting his head, the Question continued to observe the tarantula as it crawled up the side of the tank towards him. Then, he nodded, turning his attention to Booster. "...I'm not... very good with 'thank you's..."

"Then I'll pretend you said it, and I'll say 'you're welcome'." Booster grinned broadly.

"Does she have a name?" Vic wondered, seemingly fascinated by the eight-legged creature behind glass.

"Well, I didn't really think of anything, except when I saw it, I figured 'hey, that just screams Q-would-own-this' and-" Booster began.

"You couldn't have gotten him a hamster!" Ted grumbled.

"Can you imagine the Question owning a hamster? No, I don't think so. **Anyway**. I kind of just thought 'so it's a taranutla, that's kinda cool' but I didn't think 'Q-Tarantula' sounded that nifty, so I thought 'Q-Spider' instead, and... um, I guess that's kind of dumb."

However, Vic shook his head, reassuring in a quiet voice, "I like it. Q-Spider's fine."

Looking very pleased with himself, Booster glanced at Beatriz. "See? I'm totally responsible."

"Will wonders never cease?" Bea walked into the living room to peer up at the ceiling. "...Is he...?"

"See? Ted's got powers now!" Booster grinned.

"And putting them into such nice use."

Ted grumbled, folding his arms as he peered down from the ceiling.

"How was your check-up?" Vic asked, setting the tank aside for the moment before he glanced into the room.

"Oh." Coming down slowly, Blue Beetle seemed much more glad to talk about something other than the tarantula. "I don't have a heart disease anymore. Though, considering Booster just brought home eight-legged death, I might develop a new one."

"Q-Spider's not eight-legged death!" Booster defended the tarantula.

"Whatever. Did you guys get a car?" Ted glanced towards Bea and Vic.

Beatriz nodded. "It's in the driveway. How about it, boys? Wanna take a look?"

After the round of nods, the four turned for the front door; Vic paused when the phone rang. "Go ahead. Will get it."

"Just don't make them pee their pants or something," Ted told him, holding up a finger. "Which somehow reminds me: so going to yell at you for not finishing your soup." Turning, he followed Booster and Beatriz outside.

The Question picked up the phone, pressing the 'talk' button as he returned to where the tank with Q-Spider was. "Hello?"

"Question? This is Superman. I need to talk to Ted."

Vic's eyes narrowed.

---

**Notes:**

Q-Spider is totally and utterly the creation of Lakidaa, who completely rocks. DEPLOY Q-SPIDER.

And wow. Wow, this was long. Sorry for the wait and the LENGTH. But hope you enjoyed. :D


	13. The Unfortunate Exchange of Genders

**Disclaimers and Useless/Useful Stuff to Know:**  
Don't own any of these characters. Never will. Wish I did. Major spoilers for "Countdown to Infinite Crisis". Good idea to read the comic first. Also, spoilers for the Question six-issue miniseries.

---

**Warning: The Pool is Contaminated**

by Alba Aulbath

---

"Question? This is Superman. I need to talk to Ted."

There were plenty of reasons why the Question wasn't entirely fond of the Man of Steel. It could have been the lack of humanity on a physical scale - and recently, in his personal opinion, emotional and mental. It could have been his powers, it could have been anything. It was mostly his reactions to things, his appearance, the bare few times they'd met left a bad impression. Most would say that first impressions were nothing to go by - always bad. To the Question, they meant everything. They meant the truth. To him, Superman wasn't quite a boy scout. He was a soldier in a horrendously powerful army. He was ignorant, blind.

The Question didn't like Superman; the Man of Steel had similar sentiments, it seemed, with the Human Enigma.

"Talk to me, first, Clark," Vic told him coldly. "Whatever you have to say to Ted, you're going to say to me."

Hesitation on the Kryptonian's part, then he continued with, "Since it does effect you and Booster... the League and I have been talking. More than that - we've been talking to other groups, too, some. Particularly, Dr. Fate. Do you know him?"

"Know of. What's your point?"

"We know that Ted has powers now, from the scarab. They're magically based powers. So we asked Dr. Fate to come down and pick up Ted so he could receive some training."

Vic's tone went flat, repeating, "Pick him up."

"Yes. They'll probably stay in the Watchtower for awhile... Vic, you have to understand-"

"Don't call me that," the Question told him bitingly.

A sigh. "**Question**, Ted needs help controlling his powers."

"I've been teaching him."

Clark almost sounded amused. "You've been teaching him."

"There's an echo," Vic growled.

"I don't want to offend-"

"You have a talent for it regardless."

"-but Ted needs someone with years of experience. Dr. Fate already plans on coming by tomorrow afternoon at the park to meet with him," Clark told him firmly.

The Question gripped the phone tightly. "You want to take him away - without even asking us!"

"This is important, for all of you."

"I'm not letting you take him. You already failed him once - you're not going to do this!"

"Question-"

Without another word, Vic dropped the receiver and grabbed onto the phone, tearing its wire out of the wall and throwing it at the window, effectively causing it to shatter upon impact.

While the Question seethed furiously, Blue Beetle literally went flying into the room from the sound, sputtering.

"Who...! What...?" Ted tried to figure out any good reason why Vic would have broken the window this time.

Turning to scowl to him, Vic grumbled, "Wrong number."

The Question immediately left the room.

---

"So they think the bug is cute," Beatriz announced. "Well, not really the term 'cute' exactly, but Booster seemed pretty thrilled and Ted seemed to like it."

"Mm-hrm."

"I would have such a better time talking to the lamp right now," the green-haired woman told him.

"Hrrm."

Waiting against the wall of the bedroom, Vic was changing the sheets to his mattress. Beatriz had asked about where she was supposed to sleep - after all, heaven forbid she decided she'd go for a hotel - knowing outright, or at least demanding outright, that she would not accept the couch as a response. Almost immediately, Vic had volunteered his room, and was preparing it for her.

Bea lifted a brow at him as he tucked in the sheets. "You could always just join me, you kn-"

"No," Vic told her. "It's fine."

"Mm-hmm. Who was on the phone earlier?"

"Doesn't matter," the Question's voice grated, flopping the pillow onto the bed.

"Why do you want the couch?"

"Because I can sleep almost anywhere," Vic told her flatly. "Unlike everyone else here."

Bea folded her arms. "Then let me go back to 'who was on the phone'."

"**No one**."

"Oh, that is such bullshit," Beatriz told him. Approaching, she jabbed an index finger to his chest, narrowing her eyes. "You don't tear the phone out of the plug and throw it out the window because it was no one!"

"I'm crazy, of course I would," Vic told her lightly, voice somewhat strangled with himself. His expression said nothing, however, as he simply looked at her.

"That is entirely besides the point. You were mad about something, and not just anyone is going to dial the number to this place, am I right? Something happened. Was it the League?"

"Yes and no." Throwing on the blanket, he turned his head faintly to look at her. "...It was Superman."

"And? What did he have to say?"

"Nothing good." Vic frowned, his voice going quieter. "He said Dr. Fate is going to arrive tomorrow in the park to pick Ted up. Take him away. Train him."

Bea spoke out her first reaction, "Isn't that a good thing? Ted has powers now, he needs someone to teach him-"

"I have," he hissed.

"Beyond that, Ted also probably doesn't have any faith left for the League and could use a little build-up again."

Turning sharply to eye at her, Vic growled, "You think it'd be a good thing? It's not. He's leaving tomorrow - and literally, we have no say in it. That's how the League works. They consult within themselves, not always with each other, and make decisions without notifying anyone else. They might want to place themselves in good graces with him again, but do you really think it's because of who he is?"

"Okay, then what do you think?"

"They want to use his power," Vic told her bitterly. "He's completely healthy now. He's stronger than almost anyone, perhaps on par with with any of Earth's 'mightiest mortals'. He has flight, he can use lightning - that's magically based. Something that even threatens **Superman**. Don't you think that they'd want control over that? Even if they like to show they have the best intentions?"

"God, you're so paranoid," Beatriz grumbled. "He's the biggest boyscout ever! Well, next to Captain Marvel - but that point stands. What makes you think they'd want to control Ted!"

"I know how they **think**!" Vic snapped. "They can't even trust each other, do you think they'll trust him with his new powers, especially after they ignored him! They're frightened of him! He's brilliant, he never needed powers before to be able to be a vigilante, and now he has something more - after he died and it was their fault! The League is scared of each other, always trying to keep balance with one another - they don't trust each other, they don't trust us! Ted knew something was wrong, something that **Batman **ignored. A point over the Dark Knight. He comes back from the dead, with more power than he knows how to control. That's already above several metahumans. I'm paranoid? Maybe. But so's the Justice League. Now tell me, Beatriz - where do you want Ted? In Dr. Fate's hands? In Superman's? Or in ours - people who actually care about him for who he is, and not being paranoid about how he's going to use these new powers?"

There was a moment of silence between the pair, and Fire let out a sigh, holding her forehead. "What I hate... is how much sense you can make. I want to trust them. I want to. Even if they're not the same..."

"Things have changed. Not for the better."

Bea let herself sit on the edge of the mattress, rubbing her forehead. The news sunk in, initiating her second reaction. "We can't let them take Ted, then."

"No. Not going to let them."

"Have you told him or Booster?" She looked at him.

Vic shook his head. "No. ... How can I?"

"Well, he doesn't have his heart condition anymore. It's not like you have to worry about stressing him out."

"I do anyway. I'll confront Fate, tell him no."

Bea quirked a brow. "You think you can convince him?"

"Have my ways," he muttered coldly. "Will **not **allow him near Ted."

"Fine. What time are you going?"

"Early." Vic shrugged.

"Great. I'm coming with."

The Question gave her a faint expression, one that was almost horrified, slightly surprised, and incredibly dignified. "No you're not."

"Yes I am," Beatriz told him. "I am coming, we're going to tell Dr. Fate to get his ass out of the city, and live happily ever after or whatever. If you're right - and from what I hear about you, you usually are - I'm going to go along and keep them away from Ted. All right?"

He considered this. On one hand, he really would have preferred to go alone on this... but on the other hand, she did at least meet Dr. Fate before. Maybe she knew how to handle him slightly better than he would. Only slightly - he was confident what kind fo personalities he was going to be facing with when it came to the League.

"Fine."

"Excellent. I'll see you in the morning," Bea told him with a grin, leaning over and pecking him on the cheek. "Good night!" she told him cheerily.

The detective gave her a blank expression, which was likely his form of faint surprise.

"Oh, don't tell me you never had a kiss before. And I already said 'good night', this is the part where you step out and go to sleep in your own space. Unless you **want **to stay-"

Vic frowned faintly. "I would have, once. ...Good night, Beatriz." He turned around, stepping out of the room and shutting the door behind himself.

---

There were certain amount of things that man was just not supposed to deal with. Being dead and coming back? Something of the norm these days and Ted was handling it better and better. Powers that come with said death? Well, they were emotionally linked, and as long as he kept that in check, he'd be fine. Tattoo from a magical scarab? Well, it was a bit much, but it was something he started to be okay with when looking in the mirror. Crazy roomies? Not bad; they were, really, the closest people in his life.

When two of the roomies were missing? Not good.

"It's 10:05 - where's your insane faceless man and tempermental Brazillian?" Ted grumbled to himself as he checked through the house, just in case it was a horrible, horrible prank. Not that he supposed that someone as tightly wound as Vic was capable of such a thing, but he was hoping that he was at least inside of the house instead of outside terrorizing neighbors with dead animals and potentially a chainsaw with a woman that could burst into green flames.

"Oh God, the images." Ted rubbed his temple. Those two, running around outside - just... just not good. Nothing good was going to come out of it.

But then he thought - did it have anything to do with the phonecall that Vic was obviously angry about...?

No. No, surely he wasn't out to strike fear into telemarketers. Maybe he was just having a breakfast date or something with Beatriz.

Not that he could imagine the Question dating anyone. Probably drive them up the wall. But then, Beatriz was ever-so-willing to bed anything with a pretty face, moreso if they were a mask-wearer.

Ted sighed. That also bothered him. So either the pair were out on a date - not good - or they were freaking out civillians - also not good.

As he continued to explore the household, he stopped at the front door, scowling. The cane that Vic normally used was still propped up against the wall.

"Oh no," the inventor whispered, feeling dread sink to the bottom of his stomach. He turned and went to immediately check the downstairs bathroom, where the Question kept his contacts for the blind effect.

The contacts and sunglasses were left behind. Which meant that either Vic was parading around as his civillian self, or worse...

As the Human Enigma.

"Oh **no**," Ted groaned louder, holding his head.

There was going to be a migraine coming out of this soon, he could tell.

---

The park was completely empty. It was quite broad and colorful, with slides and swings and beams and small wooden towers for children to climb in that hinted at a joyful appearance of a castle, monkey bars, and so on. Beatriz was standing by one of the balancing beams, watching the Question; he had taken a seat in one of the swings, which was an interesting image. His faceless face was tilted down towards the gravel under his shoes as he swung half-heartedly, like a dejected child stuck in solitude.

They were early, he had told her. Dr. Fate was supposed to come by noon.

It was about 11:30 in the morning, last Fire checked her watch. They had left a little before 10:00 at the Question's insistence.

They hadn't said much during their waiting. Beatriz had explored the playground and thought to herself, which hadn't lasted very long.

Question was silent.

Eventually, she had gotten tired of being by herself and stayed by the swings where he was.

Incapable of taking the silence any longer, she turned her head and looked at him intently. "How long have you and Ted been friends?"

The Question lifted his head, watching her, quiet. "Don't know. We worked together, variously, in the past. Wouldn't know when we... really were friends. Maybe only lately."

"But he's important to you." That had not been a question, definitely.

"Yes." Turning slightly and stopping his swinging, he spoke to her, face to no-face. "He wasn't someone I was used to, even in my early days."

"Someone...?" Beatriz gestured for him to elaborate.

"The only other people I've ever worked with have been Batman, Green Arrow, the Huntress, and Lady Shiva," he told her. "The people in Hub City are different from anywhere else you'll ever go - the closest in comparison being Bludhaven and Gotham. Even then, it's the worst possible place in this country to be. It's rotting, crumbling, and dying. The people - at least, almost all of them - are terrible, horrible people, twisted and hating each other and killing each other and..." The Question shook his head. "...When I met Blue Beetle, knew he was different."

"How?"

"He was happy," the Question told her. "Never met anyone smile honestly like that. ...His way of life was simpler than mine. Can never live the way he does. But I liked it. Ollie does smile, but it's not the same way as Ted. Not even close... We didn't team up too often, but when we did, it was a reminder of what... I would have liked to have protected in Hub. I don't protect many innocents or smiling, honest people. I protect bitter, angry, hateful, and terrible people."

"Well." Beatriz had a soft, amused smile. "I never quite pegged you to be so sweet in your own little twisted way."

Question tilted his head, curious. "Hrrm?"

"You're not good at talking about it. No, you're just different from the rest of us. You prefer to work with your thoughts instead of your feelings. Someone like Booster likes to go with his emotions. But you feel sometimes - and when you do, it's very nice, isn't it?" Beatriz smirked a little. "That's very attractive."

"Please stop flirting with me," the Question mumbled.

Beatriz frowned and was prepared to open her mouth when the faceless man held up his hand, standing away from the swings. Turning his head, he nodded, his gesture vertical, as Dr. Fate came flying down from the sky. Behind the golden, shimmering mask, Dr. Fate was scowling.

"Where is Blue Beetle?" he asked.

"Not coming," the Question told him sharply. "We're here to tell you that he's not going with anyone. Not with the League, not with the Society, not with you."

"I'm afraid it's not really an option."

"Then I'm making one," the faceless man hissed. "No one has any business coming down here to take him away from us. Do any of you comprehend what they've been through? Do any of you realize what you're about to do? You're taking control of his life."

Dr. Fate stared at the Question, impassive. "Beetle is in need of training and comprehension of his powers. That's why I am here, why we're going to be involved. It's to protect himself."

"Shouldn't that be Ted's decision? And frankly, he's pretty damned pissed with you and everyone else," Beatriz told him, hands on her hips.

"With Checkmate so active, we don't wish to reveal that Blue Beetle is alive, much less how much more of a threat he is to them," Dr. Fate responded. "He needs aid, which can be provided."

"Or is this about what a threat he is to the League?" the Question growled. "You failed him. All of you. You thought that he was just wasting your time, that he was on a wild goose chase. You all thought it was nothing, because of his past actions. People are incapable of changing to any of you - which makes you all so very blind. People in the League have changed. It's bitter, it's cold, it's like an army now. You function with no passion. You function with paranoia and distrust. Blue Beetle trusted you all with his life - none of you trusted him. And now that he's back from the dead, having been so very right about what he had discovered, having powers now - you're afraid. You're afraid that he'll turn his back on you all. And maybe, he's just a big enough threat to all of you."

"We do not stand as a threat to each other. We function together."

"With little faith in one another," the Question told him bitterly. "Not one of you really trusts each other, which is why that satellite exists in the sky, why Batman is always paranoid and making plans against his own team members. I am quite possibly one of the biggest lonewolfs in the masked community, and I have utter trust in these people I'm now living with. None of you trusts each other - and **I** don't trust any of you with Ted. And no one is going to take him away from here."

Notably, Dr. Fate stiffened; his eyes behind his mask narrowed further, displeased. "Do not make me force my hand, Question."

"I'm not the one forcing anything. You're the ones who want to step into his life and control it! And I won't let it happen." The faceless man didn't hesitate to approach closer; though there was a lack of features set on his no-face, the snarling was apparent in his tone of voice. "I'd sooner condemn your soul to the lowest pits of Hell."

"Is that so." Dr. Fate's voice lowered.

Beatriz winced faintly and turned her head towards the Human Enigma. "Question..."

"That's **indeed **so," Question told him, seething. "I can and **will **damn your spirit, if you decide to get even remotely near him or anyone else in that house. Everyone from the League has already made their fair share of mistakes. Not going to let you make more of them!"

"You believe you can stop me." Dr. Fate paused, then looked closer at the Question before taking a step away. "You. Something... about you."

The Question had his hands clenched tightly, his faceless face glowering at Dr. Fate; as Beatriz watched, she saw Dr. Fate suddenly stumble back, as if he were pushed. Raising a brow to herself, she glanced between the two of them, unable to help but feel helplessly confused and decided she felt more sympathetic towards Booster Gold in that moment. Being so puzzled must've been what it was like being him all of the time.

"**Leave**," Question growled, bringing up his hand; his arm was shaking, and Bea was sure that it was due to fury. "Could make you leave. **Will make you leave**!"

Dr. Fate was nearly thrown off his feet by an unseen force; Fire was looking quickly again between the two of them, and finally concluded that it was the Question somehow managing to shove Fate without budging from his spot. How exactly was he doing that?

There was a jumble of words coming from Dr. Fate as he held up his hand, sounding angry and nothing comprehensible spoken. It may have been a language that Beatriz just didn't know, but either way, a beam of light erupted from his palm, striking the Question in the chest and sending him flying a few feet.

"Vic!" Bea immediately ran in front of the faceless man, then turned to face Dr. Fate, growling as she became encased in green flames. A few Portugese obscenities were spoken before she demanded, "What did you do!"

"He's unharmed - relatively," Dr. Fate spoke, his voice angry. "If you wish to speak to Beetle and make a final decision amongst yourselves, very well - but I don't wish to see him again. Not that I will." Turning, he took off into the sky.

Beatriz's flames disappeared as she turned to kneel down at the Question's side. "Vic?" she hissed. "Vic!" Gently, she shook the Human Enigma's shoulder, causing the fedora to fall off.

A bundle of incredibly long and gorgeous hair fell out, effectively framing the Question's non-face and the rest of it flowing down the back of the trenchcoat. It almost made Bea drop the Question in surprise.

"**What...?**" She looked down, and saw that the Question's figure was completely off, so to speak.

"Beatriz...?" a low and melodious female voice inquired from the faceless person.

"Oh my God," Bea phrased out, staring.

---

"They're still not back," Ted announced, pacing.

"Nope," Booster agreed, flipping through the channels of the TV, half-paying attention to the brunet pacing by the doorframe.

"Why are they not back yet? They should be back. Unless they're still terrorizing the town - oh my God they could be terrorizing the city!" The inventor held his head, shaking it as he tried not to lead this form a feeling of absolute dread in his stomach.

Lifting his head from the television screen, Booster shrugged and told him, "They could be doing lots of things, Ted. Relax, or you're gonna get a new alleged heart condition."

"Why is this still **alleged **with you?" Ted peered at him, pausing his pace.

"Force of habit," the former blonde reassured. "Anyway, they're probably not out doing the vigilante thing. Q knows we're not supposed to be running around in our masks."

"Then why isn't he pretending to be blind!"

"I... don't know?" Booster shrugged. "Look, just don't let it get to you. They're fine."

---

"This is **not **fine! This is... this is a disaster! This is... **I will kill him**!"

"No you won't; everyone would be a little more than miffed if you killed Dr. Fate," Beatriz said, watching the faceless woman frantically gesture as if to get her point across.

"I. Don't. Care. First, he has no right to invade our life and try to take Ted away, now he... he does this to me!"

Bea quirked a brow. "Being a woman is so bad?"

"I can already think of so many reasons why this is one of the most horrendous things that could happen to me," the Question hissed. "I can't **See**, I can't use any of my chi properly, I can't... my center of gravity is all off!"

"Then you just need a few adjustments. Relax, this can't possibly be permanent."

"You can't promise that!" The Question pointed at her. "You can't. Not familiar with his magic, not familiar enough to try to undo it..."

Beatriz placed her hands to the Question's shoulders. "Vic, honey, calm down or you're going to hyperventilate."

"Am not going to-!"

"Okay, then shut up before the slightest possible chance," Bea told her. "It's temporary. It has to be. And if not, we'll figure out a way to fix it. All right? For now, let's go home."

"...You think this is hilarious," the Question grumbled.

"No, of course I don't."

"You're laughing."

"Of course I'm not. Don't be ridiculous," Fire assured, sighing.

"You're laughing **mentally**."

"Well..." Bea winced. "Yeah, I am."

The Question sighed, placing her non-face into her hands. "Can't go home. Can't go in like this," she grumbled. "Not in front of Ted and Michael."

"Now, I know I can't commend their hormones, but they'll know it's you."

"No they won't," the Human Enigma muttered glumly.

Beatriz peered at her carefully, observing over the Question's newly developed body. She had long, flowing dark hair, bangs down far enough to frame her face - or lack thereof. From what Bea could see, she had an absolutely perfect figure, including being quite full in her bosom.

Curiously, Bea wondered if the endowment had any relation to his male form.

Something to consider later.

"No, they won't," Bea agreed belatedly. "After all, it's quite a change. Long lovely hair and a killer figure-"

"You're not helping, believe it or not."

"Well, how's this? You keep your mask on, button up your jacket, and we can pin your hair into your hat. Then when we get home, you can just go to your room and we'll try to figure this out - hopefully before our 'boys will be boys' will find out what's happened," Beatriz suggested. "There's plenty of magicians around; maybe we can snag Zatanna for help."

"No more magic," the Question grated.

"You'll probably need another magician for a cure, Vikky."

"Don't call me that."

Bea smirked. "Victoria?"

The Question growled.

"I'm only joking with you," Bea reassured, grinning. "Come here, let me help you with your hair. I promise, they're not going to know any better."

Sighing, the Question took a bench nearby, removing the fedora from her head. Sitting beside the Human Enigma, Bea tilted her head as she touched the Question's now three-foot long dark hair. "Damn; Dr. Fate really went out of his way. This is gorgeous," Fire mused under her breath, beginning to pin the hair up.

"Stop admiring it, Beatriz," the Question sighed.

"Honestly, you don't know how to appreciate a work of art."

"Being forced into a gender change through magic is not a** work of art**. Didn't like Fate before, **abhor **him now."

Bea frowned. "You really have a problem with almost every single superhero out there, don't you?"

"Most of them, yes."

"Any specific reason why?"

"Not discussable right now."

Placing the fedora back onto the Human Enigma's head, Bea looked the Question over. "Go ahead and button up your jacket. You should be okay. You know, as long as you hurry to your room. I'll tell them that your cold got worse or something."

"Hope they're convinced; won't ever live this down otherwise."

---

"Did the new window come in all right, Ted?"

The brunet sighed and responded, "Yeah."

"And the results from the doctor was all positive - the scarab completely healed you."

"Uh-huh."

"So why do you sound so irritated?"

Ted's fingers were against his temple as he rubbed deeply. "Barbara, Vic broke the window because of a phone call, and now he's disappeared, probably with Bea. In his mask, I'd wager. I'm just an inch closer to freaking out, because they're likely causing some kind of trouble somewhere in the city and I can't just go around asking 'Hey, have you seen a faceless man and green-haired woman who may or may not be engulfed in green flames?' So, here I am, stuck at home, and Booster's off to work with cute fuzzy animals and the potential freaky eight-legged thing like the one he brought into the house-"

"Don't like spiders, eh?"

"They're unnatural things, Barb! Which, in that sense, a spider makes a very good pet for Vic."

The front door, he heard, opened and slammed shut in just a matter of seconds. Ted leaned over in his chair, seeing the flap of Vic's trenchcoat as he ran up the stairs immediately, hearing him shut the bedroom door firmly. Beatriz, however, leaned to get a view of Ted, smirking in his direction and waving before she went to take off her coat.

"Call back later, Barb?" Ted requested quietly.

"Sure thing. The troublemakers home?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Are you going to ground them next, Mommy?"

Ted sputtered. "What? No! Bye, Barb!" He hung up quickly before he literally flew out of his seat towards Beatriz.

"Well, this is a pleasant greeting; right out of your chair to fly into my arms?" Bea mused.

"Haha **no**. Why did Vic run up the stairs?"

Fire shrugged, tucking strands of green hair behind her ear. "His cold made a comeback when we were walking. Poor thing."

"Walking. For a couple of hours."

"Yes. It was very nice, too." Beatriz smirked softly. "We explored quite a bit of the city. Ever been to the park? Why, no, of course you haven't; you don't step out much, Ted. Tsk tsk. Even Vic likes to get a breath of air."

There was a hi-pitched, incredibly feminine snarl of frustration upstairs.

This made both Beatriz and Ted freeze; the brunet turned his head, staring up. "Was that Vic...?" he muttered in disbelief.

"Well, got to check on our patient! Ta!" The green-haired woman took off upstairs.

"Now wait a minute! What's going on!" Ted called after her.

"Not **now**, Ted! Busy busy!"

Standing at the bottom of the steps, Blue Beetle watched Fire flee up the stairs to the Question's bedroom. He frowned, thinking to himself. They were spending a lot of time together.

Maybe they really were-

"So **not **going there," Ted grumbled under his breath.

Even if they were, he was giving it only one day to work. Bea was fickle and Vic was nuts, anyway.

---

The first thing Beatriz noticed when she got to the entrance of the Question's bedroom was that a pair of scissors had embedded themselves into the wood of the doorframe right beside the green-haired woman's face.

"...Huh." Yanking the scissors out, she saw the back of the Question on the floor with bounds of hair to the carpet and surrounding her, as if she suddenly had a session of shedding. Strange, it didn't look like she really lost any hair.

"It just keeps growing back!" the Human Enigma seethed. "Keep cutting it, and it...!" Her incredibly delicate-looking hands clenched tightly.

Approaching, Beatriz knelt down and took a few strands of hair curiously, snipping a few inches off. Immediately, it grew back to the full length that had been formed the moment Dr. Fate had cursed the Question. "That's strange... and inconvenient," Fire murmured.

"Very observant."

"Aren't we snarky?" Bea set aside the scissors. "Take off your mask."

The faceless woman turned her head sharply to glare at her, or at least the very best she could with the mask on. "**No**!"

"I want to know what you look like."

"Beatriz!" the Question hissed at her, pulling herself away from the green-haired woman. "**I **don't want to know what it looks like!"

Rolling her eyes a little, Bea asked, "It couldn't be that bad."

"Yes it could."

"You're a pretty boy when you were a man, you're probably gorgeous as a woman," Beatriz did her best to reassure her.

"That's exactly what I'm worried about," the Question murmured glumly.

Folding her arms, the green-haired woman stared at the Human Enigma intently. "Take the mask off; you have to eat sometime, anyway."

"No I don't. I could get IV'd."

"Now that'd be so suspicious, even Booster would notice."

The Question peered at the Brazillian behind her mask, snorting a little. "So?"

"Right. Silly me; you'd be crazy enough to do it anyway." Beatriz shrugged. "But he'd be worried. And so would Ted."

"Don't even suggest that I go to them for help."

"I'm not. We already agreed on that. But you have to take off your mask sometime, Vic. Doing it in front of someone will help, I'm sure it will."

"And... you're that someone?" Question's head tilted faintly.

"I love how much faith you have in me," Beatriz remarked. "I'm a woman, and you need a woman's help in dealing with your sudden changes until we can get you back to normal. I swear that I won't tell Ted or Booster about what happened - this will be just between you and me. Okay?"

The area around the faceless woman's brow creased, emphasizing a frown as she thought to herself. With a quiet sigh, the Question pressed a switch on her beltbuckle; the trademarked yellow gas leaked out, changing the coloring of her clothes to their original, nature state. She peeled off the mask, turning her head to look at Beatriz. She had perfectly good features to the point in which the scar she had given to herself prior to their move to Philadelphia had disappeared; her face was also more rounded off than how she looked as a man. Her lips were fuller and looked much more pouty in this form, which did not help as she frowned at the green-haired woman.

"I don't want a mirror," Vic told her quickly. "I don't want any makeovers or anything like that. Not a word of it."

Smiling wryly, Beatriz agreed with, "My lips are sealed."

"Don't even think any of it."

"Think what?" Beatriz grinned faintly.

"Good. ...Now what do I do?" There was a sigh from Vic as she covered her face with gloved hand, slouching as she sulked.

"For now? Take a breather." Fire's expression became softer and gently, she tucked some dark strands of hair behind Vic's ear. "Okay? Don't stress and stay in your room for awhile. I'll handle the boys, and we'll figure out something."

"What about at night? When I have to sleep. I'm downstairs."

Beatriz stood up, then shook her head. "Well, not anymore. It's fine. It's an expensive and completely comforable couch; I'm sure I'll sleep well."

In spite of her reassurances, the Question still looked at her with doubt, frowning and simply nodding.

"Good. You stay here and behave, clean up a bit. I'll go and make sure Ted isn't flipping out." Beatriz waved a little before she stepped out the door.

Sighing softly, Vic bowed her head.

---

It was afternoon, about three o' clock, and in spite of it being a slow day, Booster strangely couldn't stop the thrill of actually having a job again.

Strange; most superheroes didn't worry about funds or having a job or anything - at least, that was the popular public view, no doubt. The moment Booster arrived in the past, he didn't really even consider a bad financial situation was going to be part of his life. Presuming too much, he expected fame and fortune in the life as a superhero.

Well, he knew pretty much now that things never went how you expected, and hardly how you wanted. It wasn't always a bad thing, but...

Regardless, he was pleased with himself. His social security number wasn't going to exist for a few centuries, so the fake one he had on hand (much reluctant thanks to Batman) had actually given him a benefit.

Plus? He loved animals. Pet stores _rocked_.

It was a small place. A little banged up, could use some remodelling, but it wasn't bad. Located at the side of a street, 'Get-A-Pet' was a quaint store with dozens of kinds of animals inside. There wasn't a single one Booster didn't like-

Well, except maybe the rats. He never did like rats.

"Mr. Suuuuuummers?" a cheerful female voice called out curiously. "Heyyyy, Mr. Summers!"

Booster glanced quickly over his shoulder to the auburn-haired girl calling for him. She was one of the other co-workers and couldn't have been older than fifteen; he'd met her the other day for the job interview, and from what he could tell, Alison Jones was always smiling cheerfully over the littlest thing. Sweet and kind, in a way that made him think of Ice - but she also had a horribly short attention span and could also be considered hyper; something very unlike Tora.

"What's up?"

Alison tilted her head, frowning. "The pythons are missin'; I was wonderin' if you moved 'em somewhere? I saw 'em fifteen minutes ago after Billy left for lunch so I know for sure she wasn't the one who took 'em out and there's no receipt so they weren't sold, sooooo..."

That was weird. Booster frowned. Alison was the poster child for ADD, but she wasn't forgetful.

He turned his head sharply when he heard the puppies begin to bark in their cages - and not in the cute way.

"Eek!" Alison ducked behind Booster as parakeets and parrots began to fly around, one nearly right into her.

"What the hell-?" Booster half-heartedly swatted at a bird before pushing the girl behind him towards the desk. "Hide behind there, okay?" Turning again, he felt something slithering by his ankes-

"GAH!" He jumped as about three pythons hissed at him threateningly before they moved on towards the cages. Stumbling against the desk, he stared in faint amazement as the snakes managed to figure out - with their bodies - to open the cages. "Okayyyyy..."

Suddenly, without warning, the door swung open non-dramatically as it gave a cheerful jingle and swung a bit slow since it was weighted a bit. Stepping inside with horrifically cliched laughter was a man in gaudy and colorful clothes, all with feathers or furs along with a - of course - mask just above a curly dark moustache and a cape that resembled more of a boa.

"Come to me, my darlings! So says the Beastmaster!" The man paused and looked unhappy. "Wait, that wasn't bold enough. The door did NOT swing the right way!"

"Well, you're kind of already here; I don't think a second impression is going to change anything," Booster told him, shrugging.

"You think so? How unfortunate." The Beastmaster paused, then waved his hand. "Wait, wait! No chatting with pedestrians! You're supposed to be running around screaming for your life!"

Booster held up his hands. "Look, if you were attacking people maybe... twenty or so years ago? They might be a little freaked out. Now? People would be freaked out for a different reason. I mean, for starters, look at your wardrobe; did you go to college with Rainbow Raider or something?"

"Ooo, you make me angry! GET HIM! Get him NOW!" Beastmaster pointed wildly.

The pythons rose up, hissing, darting towards Booster - who shrugged and hopped to sit onto the desk, getting out of their range. Below him, the snakes hissed and snapped their jaws at his feet without much luck.

"Yes, well... HA HA! Cower on your little desk, civillian! Come, my pretties!" The Beastmaster turned in a whirl of colorful feathers and furs, running down the street with the animals - kittens, puppies, rabbits, snakes, and all besides the fish - in toe.

"'My pretties'? Does anyone say that anymore?" Alison wondered as she peeked over the desk.

"Usually not," Booster told her. "You okay?"

"Yeah, jus' kinda bummed. Hope those animals will be okay. That, and it looks like we aren't gonna get a paycheck this week," Alison responded glumly. She sulked a bit against the desk, then blinked over her shoulder. "Huh. How come th' rats are still here?"

"Because there is no God," Booster muttered under his breath.

"Huh?"

"Nothing." Though it was a good question. Heck, the Beastmaster took everything else that crawled on land. Why not the rats? He even took the hamsters.

Finally, Booster admitted, "I don't know. But let's just get cleaned up, okay? We'll figure it out, Allie."

---

There were a few changes made around the bedroom while Vic attempted to keep herself busy. For the sake of her privacy, in case Booster or Ted would have forgotten to knock - which wouldn't be shocking with the two of them - she had added additional locks to the door. It wouldn't keep Ted's strength from knocking it down, but it would at least suggest 'private time'. The fortunate thing was, at least, she did not have to leave the room to do this; she kept several locks and tools under the bed.

Always be prepared. That was something she followed closely.

She had spent time taking Q-Spider out of her tank and simply watching the tarantula. The arachnid was passive and steady, but there seemed to be a hint of strength in there as well. Typically frightening looking, but... a construction of everything Vic had once wanted to be. Nothing but instinct, nothing but strength and a will to live. Entirely composed of nerves and ganglia.

Once had wanted. Did not want. When did that change?

When did everything she wanted change so suddenly?

Vic returned Q-Spider away to her tank and fell onto the bed, burying her face into the pillow, loathing the body she was stuck in. Everything was wrong. Her balance, her use of chi was too strong and giving her a headache, just... everything. It was absolute torture, and she hated it. She did not hate the fairer sex at all, but to suddenly change was horrible. It made her truly loathe Fate and the rest of the spandex community. How **dare **they.

It tired her, being so angry at them. They wanted to take Ted away, after all they had done - or hadn't done.

Somewhere along the line, in her angered thoughts and rest in bed, she had managed in her exhaustion to slip away into a slumber _and it was darker with heated winds and sand and cliffs and insanely lonely._

_Looking up, he saw the Eye glaring down at him, the eye in the sky._

_He heard a voice, asking, "Who...?"_

_The Question turned, and somehow he couldn't see as clearly, and knew it was only a figure at the other end of the rocky terrain. It was a male, he knew that much, muttering quietly, "You're the..."_

_The faceless man jerked back, holding his head. There was so much pain, too much..._

_The eye, a dark eye, a red eye, the eye on a man. An eye, overhead._

_The eye._

_**"I need to know where he is. I'm sure you understand."**_

_There was a scream echoing in his head, loud and sharp and ready to shatter him; it felt like something was scratching at him, nudging to get inside--_

_"Please! Please, you've got to help me!" It was the man before, shaking him by the shoulders. "Please!"_

_He couldn't bring himself to respond._

_**He was sitting in a chair, in front of a screen. It was the Eye, Brother Eye - the O.M.A.C. Project. It wasn't really his, per se, but using it was beneficial. He could use it easily against everyone, so easily... but he didn't.**_

_**"You know where he is," another voice mused, and it felt transparent, not quite there - not on a normal plane of existence.**_

_**He looked around, frowning in the empty room.**_

_**It was closer.**_

_**"I need to know where he is. I'm sure you understand."**_

_**His mind, mind being torn-**_

_**Screams.**_

_**Nose bleeding.**_

_"Stop it! STOP IT!" the Question demanded, pulling back from whoever was holding onto him._

_"Wait! Damn it... damn it, PLEASE! You have to help me!"_

_**"What are you doing to me...!" He fell to the floor, clutching his head.**_

_**"I need what information you possess. This is the simplest and most beneficial way. I have a man to guide, you see..."**_

_**It felt like his mind was splitting in half.**_

_**"I have a man to guide to the deepest and most horrific pits of Hell."**_

_**He couldn't let it happen-**_

_**He could. He should.**_

_**Somehow, his eyes were opened, after so much pain.**_

_"You can see it, can't you...? That's what you CAN do. You've got to-" he pleaded._

_**Things began to fast forward. He decided to do things differently. He decided things needed to be different.**_

_**When it all came down to the Lord and the bug.**_

_**"I wanted to bring you in a long time ago, I just couldn't find a way-"**_

_**"Join me or die time, is that it?" the bug snarled.**_

_**"That's it exactly," the Lord said.**_

_**"Rot in hell, Max."**_

_**His nose bled, and he told himself no, no, no, it wasn't meant to be done. A friend, a friend, don't-**_

_**A clear shot.**_

Bang. Bang. Bang.

_"NO!" The Question shook his head. "Don't touch me, don't-!"_

"Vic!" Bang- no, it sounded more like a knock on wood.

Her eyes opened and she took in a sharp deep breath of air, so sudden that it hurt her.

The door was suddenly off its hinges, Ted standing at the doorway. "Vic, what's going- ... ... uhhh...?"

Vic stared at Ted, then groaned, burying her face into the pillow.

---

The pet store had to, after being cleaned up, close early unfortunately. Once Booster locked the door, Alison was waiting by the curb, sitting and pouting. As much as he could somewhat relate to Alison's frustration, the kid was terribly cute.

"Hey, the guy's wearing some seriously flamboyant clothes; the cops will find him okay," Booster reassured her with a grin. Normally, of course, he would have dashed off to find the easily tracible crook himself, but under the circumstances...

"Yeah, I know th' animals are gonna be okay. It's just..." Alison picked at a loose thread on her winter gloves. "I really kinda need th' work, so..."

The response was rather ambiguous; 'need' could have meant that she needed something to do, or she needed it for finances, or needed because her parents told her so. Booster lifted a brow, but all the auburn-haired girl could do was keep picking at the loose thread to keep herself busy, head bowed from his eye level.

He placed his hand on the top of her head, ruffling her hair a little. "Hey, c'mon. Don't look so upset. Let's grab some late lunch, all right?"

"Ummm..." Alison lifted her head, looking uncertain as she went to check her wallet.

"As in, I'll pay and you thank me."

"But...!"

"Got something to do?" Booster peered at her.

"Well... not really."

"Great. C'mon."

There was hesitation on the girl's part before she stood up, brushing off her bum before following Booster, tucking her arms behind her back.

It was a bit odd. The kid didn't look much like either of them, but her mannerisms were a bit similar to both Tora's and Michelle's. She was grinning constantly, or at least trying to. Sometimes, just the way she tilted her head when she listened to Booster curiously. Terribly nice, sweet to the point of inducing cavities. He'd known her for two days and her personality was easy enough to pin.

Maybe just by how much he did miss other people.

Over lunch, he'd listen or talk, depending on what it was, but it was less about eating and more about watching her just because of the people she'd remind him of. It hurt more than just a bit, even though time had gone by since they were gone - but when you lose someone, you never truly forget them and how much it pained you when you learned they were dead and you wouldn't see them the next day, say "hi" to them the next day, hear them laugh at a stupid joke or story, or anything.

When Tora died, it hurt Beatriz the most and they knew that. But along the way, you swallow your hurting because you know someone else was hurting much worse. Dealing with the fact that Ted had indeed died - even if he was alive now - had sprung up a lot of thoughts and feelings Booster had never wanted to deal with. In spite of his position in the spandex community as nothing but a man from the future without a brain or sense towards anything, with no maturity, it was always deeper than that. But then, it was easier to think of people shallowly, to simplify and generalize. Besides that particular point, all in all, Booster preferred to ignore those grieving feelings.

He couldn't a lot, realizing how closely death had taken one of the last people he really cared about. His best friend, the closest bit of family he had left.

He missed a lot of other people, too, and he saw that while watching Alison.

It was so much easier to ignore sneaky problems like pain and seriousness. And in that regard, maybe Booster saw a bit of himself in her, too, with the way she acted.

After the late lunch, Alison walked herself home and Booster didn't follow, even though he thought maybe he should.

Never know when you were going to lose a friend and a little more of yourself.

---

There was utter silence between both the Question and Blue Beetle.

After Ted had knocked down the door, there'd been a bit of babbling until Vic had to reassure that it was indeed him (or her at the moment) by an example (mentioning that in his early days of being Blue Beetle, he had worn lime green shoes with purple socks to work as Ted Kord). As it had turned out as to why Fire hadn't come instead of Beetle, Ted had Beatriz go out for groceries; it had been originally a distraction so he could check on Vic, then he heard the screaming.

They agreed to retreat to the kitchen table and sort this out. Or try to.

They were both sitting rather uncomfortably for different reasons.

"You're staring," Vic muttered.

"Well, I really can't help it." Ted tried to avert his eyes with failure. "I mean... jeez, Vic, what the hell happened?"

Her eyes glanced away, eyeing at the wall. "Don't wanna talk about it," she murmured in a tone as low as she could go, as if she was attempting to still sound masculine.

"You might not want to, but you really should. This has to do with that phone call, doesn it?"

Vic's eyebrows twitched, trying to tempt back a frown.

Sighing, Ted held the bridge of his nose. "I thought so. Who called, and where did you go with Beatriz, and who did this to you?"

There was a moment of silence, as Vic seemed to consider answering him. She tilted her head, dark strands of hair falling against her face until she sighed. "...Clark called. Went to the park with Beatriz. Dr. Fate did this to me."

There was a bit of sputtering from Ted until he sucked in another breath. "Okay, now let's try to fill in the blanks. Why did Clark call, why did you go with Beatriz, and why did Fate do this?"

"Clark... wanted to take you away. To the Watchtower, to the League. I didn't want that, so I left with Beatriz the next morning to confront Dr. Fate, who was the one to train you and take you away. I angered him." Vic let herself scowl, her delicate hands tightening into fists.

"So. Did we learn a lesson from our little adventure?" Ted's tone was mocking more than teasing, playing upon his apparent somewhat parental role he'd taken since they had moved into the house in Philadelphia. His eyes were narrowed, though, and he wasn't particularly feleing humorous.

Offended wasn't the right word for Vic. It was deeper than that, along with confused. "Excuse me?"

"You don't tell me what's going on, so you run off to go and deal with it yourself - so I bet Bea shoved herself in the mix somehow. Either way, here you are, because you have the wonderful knack of pissing off men and women in spandex!" Ted glowered a little, sparks around his arms and eyes. "I mean - God, Vic, I know you think it's okay to threaten anyone who seems like they're just going to hurt me, but you can't DO that, especially with the League and every other team out there! You can't keep me in the damned dark all the time!"

"I had to," Vic hissed sharply, which didn't sound nearly as threatening in her female tone. "I didn't want you involved because I didn't want you taken away! I refuse to let them do this to you and to the rest of us. First they ignore you, now they want you just because you have powers now. I can't forgive that!"

"Which is fine, except you ran off without telling me a God damned THING! Jesus, you're behaving like BATMAN!"

Vic's head jerked back a bit, her eyes widened at the remark. "Don't you compare me to-"

"Well, you are!" Ted snapped. "You went and did something without telling me or Booster and I figure you weren't going to tell Bea originally, either. You keep sneaking around and doing things without talking to us, because you think it's better that way! Because you think you're **never wrong**! Tell me that it isn't Batman behavior, Vic. Tell me it isn't!"

"I'm nothing like him - or the League," Vic growled as best she could.

"Get off your righteous ass and look at what you're doing - you're acting just like them!"

She froze, frowning to herself as she thought on the matter. No, she couldn't have been anything like them - she hated the League, she hated their formation, hated what they had become, their actions and decisions and everything. How could she be anything like them, much less Batman?

But she pondered it. Sneaking behind his back, making decisions on her own for actions, because she felt she was right and that was good enough - Lord, maybe he was right.

Maybe... maybe she was no better than them.

Her anger and frusration disappeared suddenly, and there was a wave of emotions. 'Oh God, what have I done?' 'He must hate me.' 'Why did I do that?' 'Maybe I am no better.' 'What am I then?'

Then the eternal questions.

'Who am I, then?' 'Why am I?'

It was like a waterfall beating down on her and she couldn't even control herself like she could in her male body. She was reacting and she couldn't help it.

Vic was sobbing helplessly.

Startled, Ted stood up and wasn't sure what to do. Of all the reactions, he'd been expecting more of a heated argument and not for Vic to crumble into tears and trembles as she tried to hide her face behind her hands instead of a mask. It was insanely awkward and he felt like a jerk even if Vic had to be aware of what she had been doing. Lightly and hesitantly, his hand was on her shoulder.

And then the doorbell rang.

Seethingly, Ted muttered under his breath, "That'd better be Bea." He stared down at the Human Enigma, crying softly and it was painful to listen and watch. "I, uh... I'll be right back." The brunet bit his lip before dashing off for the door.

Once Ted was gone, it didn't make it any easier. Vic shuddered and curled her fingers into her much longer hair, trying to catch her breath and swallow, but it was immediately back to tears and old thoughts she thought she had gotten rid of, pain and sorrow that might have built up over time and she never wanted to deal with because there was always something she had to do, something to focus on, and never on herself.

It'd always been about everyone else, in spite of her actions.

Desperately, she wiped her face, trying to steady herself. It was difficult. The hormones in her body, the thought process, the reactions - it was completely different than usual. She couldn't help the tears, however honest they were.

"-and you can't just strut in like you own the damned place!" she heard Ted snap at whoever made their entrance.

It was a voice she wasn't too familiar with, but... "Neither do you, Kord. Ol' Pointy Ears owns it, right?"

Standing up, Vic peered out from the kitchen, looking around, not tempting to use her **Sight.** Who was under their roof this time?

It was then that she felt someone distinctively grabbing her behind. "Hey there, sweetcheeks."

With a sharp furious scream, she turned landed the heel of her foot against the jaw of the man who owned the offending hand on her rump - though unfortunately overestimating her catch on balance, falling backwards with a surprised squeak, as much as the noise was also to her misfortune. However, Ted caught her arm, keeping her from meeting the floor.

She stared at the man who had grabbed her, and it hadn't been anyone she suspected she'd ever deal with.

"Guy, keep your hands to yourself," Ted told him, and by his tone it sounded rather tedious. "What the hell are you doing here!"

She felt her throat go dry. "Guy... Gardner?"

"I love a girl who knows my name, sweetcakes." Guy absently wiped at his jaw, grinning at her.

This was the last thing she wanted to deal with. It really was.

"So you Kord's girl, or you want a real man in the house?"

"Guy? Shut UP!" Abruptly, Ted's fist met with Guy's fist, and once against the brunet underestimated his newfound strength, sending the Green Lantern flying into a wall and leaving a perfect though somewhat cartoonish indentation of himself in it before falling back onto the floor, face first.

There was a moment of silence as they stared at the unmoving Green Lantern.

"Uhhh..." Ted paled. "Oops..."

"Well done," the Question muttered, sitting onto the floor and holding her head.

"Well, in your state, I'm not exactly shocked by his remarks. Appalled? Sure." Ted shook his head. "Vic..."

She turned her head away, making a neutral sound that might have been a grunt in her male form.

"Look, I didn't want to upset you, but..."

"No," she responded quietly. "You're right... What I did, I... I should have talked to you first..." She bit her lip a little and lowered her head. "I'm sorry, Ted."

"Do it again, and you're grounded," Ted told her.

Lifting her head, Vic raised a brow at him, about the closest she would get to a smile. It was good enough for Ted.

---

Sighing softly, Beatriz continued her walk down back to the house, plastic bags with groceries in each hand. She'd been inable to use the car at the time, since Booster had used it to get to work.

She did worry a bit; after all, poor Vic was stuck as a woman and had to stay in her room if she didn't want Ted to find out. While she had confidence in Vic for hiding, she did feel some sympathy. Not as much as she would have if it was say... five or so years ago, when Beetle acted a lot more immaturely then than currently. Not that it seemed to comfort Vic any, really.

Beatriz paused some feet from the household, frowning a little as she spotted Booster simply sitting on the stoop, staring up at the clouds in the cold.

"Booster?"

The former blonde turned his head, blinking. "Oh. Hey, Bea."

"You had such a serious look for a moment, I wondered if it was really you."

He smiled a little, shrugging. "I dunno. I was thinking about some things. Where were you and Q this morning?"

With a grin that attempted to remain mysterious, Beatriz responded with, "Now, do you really want to know the answer to that question - not to be ironic?"

"You can't seriously be hinting that you and Q..." Booster peered at her, then shook his head. "Nope. Nope, he just wouldn't."

"Oh? How are you so sure?"

"I dunno. He just seems pretty much asexual to me." He shrugged and stood up.

"Well, it wouldn't matter anyway; poor man's sick in bed again."

"Again? Somehow, I thought his immune system was better than that."

Beatriz shrugged. "He hasn't been sleeping very well. You know that."

"You know about that...?" Booster frowned at her, squinting a little.

"It's not that hard to notice. I have no idea what keeps him up, though."

Sighing, Booster shook his head, muttering, "I don't think he even really knows..."

"Well, he is from Hub City. I wouldn't be surprised if he gets nightmares sometimes," Beatriz told him.

"I don't think it's that. Whatever it is, it's just keeping him up and he doesn't want to deal with it. Which means it's pretty bad, I guess." Booster shrugged. "Well, I'm gonna let Ted deal with it, anyways. He knows Q better and Q will listen to him."

There was a faint smile on her face. "He would," she agreed softly. "C'mon, Booster. I'm not too much for the cold, you know."

---

"Jeez, Kord; they weren't kiddin' when they said you got better." Guy had eventually gotten up from the floor, wiping where he'd been slugged; at the moment, he was sitting in a chair in the kitchen with Ted, while Vic stayed in the back of the room by the wall, glowering the best she could. "Got off your fat ass and actually worked out, eh?"

"Tthat's certainly one way of putting it," Ted grumbled. "What the hell are you doing here, Guy?"

"First thing's first - who the hell's the chick?"

Vic's brow twitched irritably.

"She's not really a... she, per se... uh..." Ted glanced at her apologetically. "She's supposed to be a he. Dr. Fate kinda got angry at him and..."

"You expect me to believe that this is supposed to be a MAN!"

Vic told Guy in a low, threatening tone, "Gal Gardner."

This caused, surprisingly, Guy to sputter and give Ted a look. "How does she-!"

"That's the Question; he knows a lot of things that most people never would," Beetle responded. "Guy, meet Vic Sage, AKA the Question."

"Hot damn. You think Fate will keep her a-"

"No," Vic growled at him. "What are you doing here?"

"Superdick got pretty damned miffed awhile ago, somethin' about Ted not comin' to the Watchtower. Anyway, I wasn't really payin' attention, but he was fillin' me in on some details. Checkmate, Max, whatever - it's all screwed up as usual, from the gist of it. So Hal asked me to come down here and talk t'ya about coming back."

"Ted's not-" Vic cut herself off, then frowned, looking at the brunet quietly.

Ted nodded to what she was saying. "I don't plan on going to the Watchtower, Guy."

"I didn't think so. Fine with me, I was just wondering if you and Gold were dead or not." Guy smirked.

"How touching. I just may weep." Ted rolled his eyes.

The three of them went silent the moment they heard Booster Gold shout, "Holy crap, a girl!"

"Guy Gardner!" Beatriz seethed, the plastic bag handles melted in her grip; the groceries crashed to the floor.

"The eggs!" Ted pointed, noting the broken eggs.

"Donkey!" Booster said suddenly. Everyone stared at him. "What? Oh, that movie wasn't made yet..."

"Can I go to my room?" Vic muttered miserably.

"No, you're not grounded yet," Ted told him. "Bea, you have a good idea of what's going on. Fill in Booster, along with this headline: Superman sends Guy Gardner to convince Blue Beetle back into the Watchtower!"

"He sent GUY?" Beatriz sputtered in disbelief.

The Green Lantern lifted his hands in faint defense. "Like I was gonna try, anyhow, considerin' the crap the League's been pullin' the past few years. They still have Guanoman in their club even after all of this mess."

"Right. Guy, can you call up Superman and tell him no? AND try to get someone down here to fix Vic." Ted glanced at the Human Enigma, who looked rather uncomfortable.

"What am I, your messenger?" Guy eyed him.

"You are now." Ted slapped his hands together. "Chop chop, people!"

Vic glanced aside as everyone else went on the move, hesitantly or otherwise; Guy away to contact Superman, Bea and Boost talking in a corner ("Oh my not-God, that's Q!" "Still an aetheist I see." "Are those... REAL?" "Of all the...!"), and Ted was just rubbing his temples. However, the formerly dead man glanced at Vic, raising a brow.

"What's wrong?"

"Hnn." Vic frowned. "Nothing... it can wait."

Under normal circumstances, Ted probably would have nagged to know, but the entire thing was just tiring him out to even think about it. "All right," he agreed and Vic turned to get her space in the living room.

---

The meeting was set up, once again in the park. Off to the side, staying in the swings with her head lowered, was Vic; the others respected her space, remaining instead gathered by the slides only a few feet away. Booster was still giving Vic glances, confused, though he accepted that frankly this was a condition he was stuck with often. After all, it was incredibly difficult to imagine the Human Enigma as a woman, especially with the kind of face she'd been given, the kind of body. She simply did not look all that threatening, no matter the hisses and growls and a wave of a toothpick.

It had been awhile until Dr. Fate made his reappearance, though there was an easy sixth sense about it by just telling that he was not pleased to be in the vacinity of these people. Not that they were particularly thrilled themselves.

"You know," Ted began. "It's one thing that you guys would want me back to help me. But I know a bit better than that. Maybe you guys feel threatened and want me on your side. Maybe you really do wanna help me. Keen. But I wish there was some God damned honesty left in you people."

"I have heard a similar rant earlier today from your companion; what do you have to say?" Dr. Fate stared down at him.

"I'm not going back to the League. What is it, you can only take me seriously if I have powers or if I'm a dark broody psychopath with too much cash? This is ridiculous!"

Dr. Fate was likely frowning behind his mask; none of them could really tell, but he was generally an unhappy person whenever they saw him. "So you truly wish to stay here?"

"I wouldn't have said otherwise," Ted grumbled.

Guy lifted his hand to draw attention to himself. "It's pretty damned simple: Ted stays, you go. You goin' deaf there, Fate?"

Dr. Fate might have stared in cold silence. Again, no one really could tell.

"Just do us a favor before you flee? Turn Vic back. I know he pissed you off, but if you could do it before he snaps and decides he needs to act like Batman, that'd be great," Ted requested.

Turning, the mystic superhero lifted a hand. The Question glared at him before standing away from the swings, her fists clenched and prepared. There were words murmured under Dr. Fate's breath before the spell emitted from his fingertips and striking the Human Enigma; ready this time, she took it full-on, skidding back and falling to her knees.

"You truly resent us?" Dr. Fate stared back to Ted and the others.

Booster narrowed his eyes. "You have to ask?"

"It's more like I'm really freaking pissed at all of you. So it's pretty damned close to 'resent'," Ted responded. "I know you've been pretty much pissed at us since the whole 'I ban you from the JSA mansion for using my mystical paperweight', but accept the fact that we're pretty angry. I'm done with the League, especially after this whole Checkmate crap is over with."

Dr. Fate nodded slowly. "Very well. But do understand: there is regret."

"Yeah? I don't hear it," Ted muttered, frowning.

There was a lack of response from Dr. Fate, save for the sound of wind whipping through his cape as he took off.

Standing up, Vic brushed off his coat with a scowl on his face. "Hnn. Never did like him."

"You better now, Q?" Booster asked.

"Yes. But first thing's first." Vic turned and approached Guy. "I want you to understand something. When we met, there was a terrible misunderstanding. I want you to comprehend that the person you met wasn't me."

"I can work with that," Guy shrugged.

Vic reached back and slammed a fist across the Green Lantern's face, knocking him out cold. "That's the kind of person I am. Thank you for understanding."

"VIC! Jeez!" Ted held his face in his hands.

"What? You hit him, too," Vic muttered.

"You DID?" Beatriz was practically squealing in laughter.

"Anyway. I have to go back. Right now." Vic turned and adjusted his fedora. "...Really have to go to the bathroom."

Booster stared. "You held it IN-?"

"I was in a female body. Do you really think I wanted to CONSIDER urinating?" The Question grumbled to himself and immediately head off down the street.

---

Across the street from the park, Nick Bounty mused to himself. "A metahuman? And I guess it really isn't 'Matt Murdock' after all."

That was definitely interesting.

---

**Notes:**

God I'm sorry for the wait. And the SUCKITUDE this chapter was filled with. Argh. ARGH.


	14. Fantastically Plastically Stretcho

**Disclaimers and Useless/Useful Stuff to Know:**

Don't own any of these characters. Never will. Wish I did. Major spoilers for "Countdown to Infinite Crisis". Good idea to read the comic first. Also, spoilers for the Question six-issue miniseries.

---

**Warning: The Pool is Contaminated**

by Alba Aulbath

---

It all started off with a notice about a day ago from a cop in Philadelphia I received; he was asking for help on a case he was working on. He claimed that there were three individuals who could be potentially dangerous. He suggested that one or maybe all of them were metahumans, and that a woman with green hair was staying at the same house, supposedly engaged to one of them.

He'd sent the names after I said I might come by, but he didn't seem to have a name yet on the woman. Matt Murdock seemed his main concern, a man who was claiming to be blind. The cop said that Matt beat him senselessly. Either this Matt was a terrific pretender, or he was metahuman; that'd been my guess. A Peter Parker and a Scott Summers, the latter currently working at a local pet store. The woman was apparently engaged to Murdock.

The cop also claimed that Matt Murdock wasn't his real name. It was "Vic". He didn't get a last name. Not particularly helpful, of course. Millions of people named Victor.

There weren't any photos. The man said he couldn't get any. I wondered if this case was legal or not, but if it was a real concern, I couldn't have really refused.

Occasionally, Ollie, Wally, and lately since he's back, Hal would call me. I appreciate it, but for a year now I still can't really talk on the phone. Kind of an irrational fear, but you understand why.

I haven't talked to Ray in a long time.

Can't focus on it. It's been a long time. But it's just something you have to keep in mind - things don't get better over the course of a year. Sometimes it gets worse.

I looked over the notes that were sent to me, then stretched a hand to the answering machine. I'll listen to messages, but I never send them.

I listened. People checking in with me. It's nice that some of them haven't forgotten. We tend to forgot others' pain after awhile. It's sad, but it's true.

Wally had left a message.

"Ralph, this probably isn't... Jesus, this isn't a good time, but... I can't put this off anymore. Ted? Ted Kord? He's... he's dead..."

I had that tight feeling in my gut then and I could only recognize letters instead of words on the paper, none of it registering.

"I'm sorry. Look... call me if you need to, okay? I have something to talk to you about and - well, nobody else at the Watchtower looks like they're gonna listen anytime soon. Big surprise, right...? Talk to you later, Ralph."

I wasn't so sure about crying then.

After a bottle of Gingold, I was out to the next flight for Philadelphia.

---

The flight had been okay, except it let me stew over some things. It's been barely over a year since I lost you, Bun, and that's not ever going to go away. You know that, right? I thought 'But Ted's gone, too.' I wondered how long, because Wally said he couldn't 'put it off anymore.' It could have been weeks. Maybe a month or so. Something was going on. I didn't really know what. I haven't been too active since... well, you know.

Ted was smart, though. I know everyone judges him, Booster, and the rest of us because we laugh off a lot of things. Because we, unlike a lot of people, use humor instead of darkness for our weapons most of the time, or for our shtick, our gimmick. Regardless, I knew Ted was one of the most brilliant people in our costumed community. In spite of our commonly seen mistakes, he never got himself killed. Maybe in a coma a few times. Some would call that lucky. I prefer to think that he has some skill, unlike a lot belittle him for.

We teased each other a lot, back then. The JLA, JLI, JLE, Superbuddies, what have you. But we knew the truth under all the 'bwa ha ha's. We didn't always have to say what we admired or liked about each other, because we knew what it was.

At Philadelphia, there had been Nick Bounty waiting for me. He was about six feet tall, needed a shave, and looked overworked - probably willingly. His arm was in a sling and had a few bandages. From being beaten by a man pretending to be blind, no doubt.

A woman was next to him with pink hair that ended in curls, an easy way to catch attention and her bright yellow jacket didn't help so much to tone it down. She was just a bit shorter than Nick, and I didn't recognize her in the least. The way she looked at me then wasn't really all that settling.

"Ralph Dibny, the Elongated Man? This is my partner, Wendy Crown."

We shook hands, and the way she smiled still didn't make me feel any better about her. But I grinned back and nodded politely.

"Where can we go to talk about this?" I asked.

Nick gestured for me to follow, and I did. We went into his car - an old Lincoln, dark blue - and he talked. He had the address of the three men. He gave it to me. Descriptions, estimates, his own experiences. He noted that a few days ago, a metahuman with a golden mask meeted with them.

I can name a few with that description. It could have meant that these were easily metahumans, dangerous or no. I could make conclusions, but not without seeing these people myself.

Wendy's lips twitched at the mention of the golden masked metahuman. Something about her told me not to trust her, and I usually trust my instinct.

I said my good-bye and that I'd give him news as soon as possible. It was time to investigate.

---

The house was large and expensive and in a great end of town. There was a red Volkswagon beetle parked outside, brand new. Too clean to have been used very long. New tires, the whole works.

They were home at the time, but I decided I could sit and watch for awhile. I might be a goof, but I could do a job, too. From what I had been told, they barely left the household, so there was no way I could have just snuck inside. I'd have to wait.

I looked in the windows when I could. I couldn't see much with the curtains in the way. A redhead, a brunet, and a black-haired man. And I thought there was a fourth man, but it could have been just be the same redhead. It wasn't easy to tell. And there was a green-haired woman, definitely.

But I knew that hairstyle.

It would have been pointless to be quick to conclude. Still, if this was supposed to be a green-haired metahuman, I could make three guesses and the first two wouldn't have counted.

I could have watched for hours and nothing would have happened, but I kept on watching. I knew what I had to do.

Fortunately, it had been a half hour of waiting and watching of what little I could until one of the residents stepped out. Red hair, but it'd been dyed. A decent shade, but you could start to see some hints of real roots growing in. That, and I knew his face far too well.

Booster. Booster Gold, Michael J. Carter, the Corporate Crusader, and probably a bunch of other ridiculous titles we got through the years. Nothing beats Ductile Detective, though.

I didn't know why he was here. I didn't know what was going on, what was up with the hair, why he was living here, but it made a little bit of sense. Bea had to be here, then. But who were the other two?

Booster went down the sidewalk. I didn't follow, I didn't stop him.

Fifteen minutes later, it was getting a bit colder. Fortunately, stepping out was another one. I didn't really recognize him, though. Black hair, shades, cane, coat, and a scar on his face that was put there on purpose. Too clean of a cut. Someone did that to him - presumably. Somehow, he looked very familiar to me. Where? I couldn't place it at the time.

This must have been the man who called himself Matt Murdock. The name his friends called him was Vic. Who knew whatever it really was.

Just as I thought, and Beatriz stepped out right after him. Beatriz DaCosta, Fire. You know, explodes into green flames. Hair's all natural, don't you know.

Vic turned his head, not quite facing Bea. If he wasn't really blind, he was a good actor. "Like to go alone for today." There was something strange about the way he talked; it was rickity and uneven, not quite stable. Might say something for his personality.

"Look, I'm not going to nag you about-" she began. Sounded like Fire, looked like Fire, just might have been Fire.

He shook his head. "That isn't it," he murmured, voice softer. "Just... not right now, Beatriz."

"What am I going to do? Guy's driving me up the goddamned wall." Guy was there too? So, there **were **two redheads - or, well, one of them was a real redhead. I still didn't know what was with the dye job.

Vic shrugged. "Go visit Michael. Not much for suggestions right now..."

"Well, you're not that creative with outings to begin with," Bea remarked. "Don't be out long. You know he gets all worried. He's such a mom." 'He'? Probably whoever Peter was supposed to be. Tried to think of who it could have been, but nothing came to mind, except for... well, the other option wasn't alive anymore. Maybe Max, but I doubted it. Unless this was another superhero gig he was trying to pull, but he wasn't the worrying type unless it was with finances. Not a heartless guy, but pretty laidback.

There was a little smile on Vic's face. "Will be fine. Be back later." He turned and started down the opposite direction Booster had left earlier. Bea went back inside.

I could probably have figured out whoever Peter might have been no problem. But, from the way Nick talked he was mostly interested in whoever Matt or Vic or whatever his name was. If he was a metahuman, I couldn't figure who unless he had shifting abilities, and I doubted this was J'onn I was dealing with. He would have noticed me right away. You can't hide much from a telepath.

I stretched along quietly, stepping onto rooftops. I could stretch to over a mile if I really pushed myself, so it was no big deal to go at it like this.

The way Vic walked, if he was faking it, I noticed he took great practice. He tapped the cane in no real beat, his head leaned back and depending on his other senses.

A broad, stone set of stairs was his destination. Up the steps, and a path leading two ways: a park - more or less; it was more like a field with benches and trees and maybe flowers during summer and spring - and a cemetary. He paused, tilting his head, then turned.

I didn't think he'd go to the cemetary, but I followed.

He was there for a few minutes, staring down at one grave. I couldn't read what it said from my angle at the moment then. After about ten minutes, he left.

I went to check it out. It said "Aristotle Rodor". It wasn't a name I recognized, but I'd be sure to look it up.

Vic kept walking, I kept following. It didn't look like he had any specific destination for awhile. Wandering. But, he probably knew this city better than I did.

Eventually, he took entry into a restaurant that wasn't very complimenting. I could have said he didn't know better due to his blindness. But he did know better.

Stretching over, I slipped inside to follow.

It was a very quaint little pub inside, sort of a strange homeliness feeling to it. Worn and nothing new, but it was warm. Not like there was much of a competition, considering how cold it was outside. Without much trouble in spite of his blindness -- whether or not it was real -- Vic found himself a seat at a table. It almost seemed like he was waiting for someone, as I sat and watched. But no one came.

All he had was tea -- it was Black Chai, I noted to myself -- and after a half hour, he stood up after he set down the appropriate bills, which I stared at. You could be sure that my nose twitched. Vic started out of the pub.

His cane bumped against my shin before he made it to the door. I was almost sure it was on purpose.

"So sorry," he apologized, voice soft.

"Not at all."

Vic tilted his head, not quite facing me. "You have a very familiar voice. We wouldn't have met anywhere before, would we?"

"I doubt that," I responded assuringly. "I'm pretty spot on with faces."

"Is it always a face you have to know?" Vic seemed to muse. "You're not from around here."

"You sound pretty positive of yourself."

"Because I know I haven't heard your voice before from this city." Vic turned. "Pardon; I should be heading home."

I watched him walk out, and I stretched after him before the door shut closed.

Shortly after he was outside on the sidewalk, a man in vibrantly colored furs and feathers was running down the street with apparently dogs and cats and other assorted typical pet animals right after him. He was screaming out, "The Beastmaster shall RULE YOU ALL!"

Vic's lips pressed into a flat, tight line and he cane stuck out a little too far.

The Beastmater -- as I learned, later, was what he really did call himself -- tripped and flailed over the cane, landing roughly on his face. The animals all stopped, surrounding the man.

"Beastmaster, eh?" Vic smirked faintly. "You wouldn't have anything to do with a robbery of a pet store, would you?"

The man in furs struggled back to his feet, then turned to glare at Vic. "All beasts shall be ruled under me! It was not robbery, but freeing them!"

"And robbing their free will while you're at it, no doubt."

Beastmaster sputtered, and looked ready to bark out something, whether it was a command or a remark, then spotted me behind Vic. "YOU! You must be... what was it... Dr. Fan-plastic?"

"Usually, I might be offended that a villain doesn't recognize me, but I've mellowed out in my career," I chirped, voice happier than I could have been. Stretching out an arm, it wrapped around Beastmaster completely, then I clamped his mouth shut.

"Famous, are we?" It was Vic, still not quite turning to look at me.

"You could say that." I couldn't hide a little bit of a smile. There were fonder days behind me, and I still thought of them. Memories cause some in grieving pain. They're, to me, inspiration.

Nodding his head, Vic said, "You don't sound like Plastic Man..."

"I like pants, anyway."

"Ah. Now I know. Ralph Dibny, the Elongated Man. Not much competition for the stretching variety." Vic turned around, feeling for the door before he stepped back into the pub. "Be back shortly. Should call the authorities."

---

It may have seemed like it was a mistake to let him know that it was me -- if he didn't know to begin with, anyway. He played being blind very convincingly, but I was already positive that he wasn't. Just a very, very good actor. It was no wonder that Vic deceived the rest of the police force.

But it still didn't confirm to me who he was. What was he doing with Booster, Beatriz, and Guy?

After Beastmaster and the animals were pretty well settled, Vic was already prepared to leave. Stretching over to get in front of him, I said, "Wait a second there."

His lips tightened into a flat line. "Yes?"

"I need to have a chat with you -- hold on tight." I wrapped an arm around him without a single warning, which managed to cause him to make a startled noise. Stretching out my legs, I was able to achieve quite a bit of distance between the crowd and ourselves; I didn't stop until we were settled on a rooftop.

Setting him down, Vic readjusted the fedora on his head, mumbling, "Was that really necessary?"

"Probably not, but it was a darn good way to keep your attention, wasn't it?"

Sighing softly, he asked, "Can I help you with something, Mr. Dibny?"

"I'm going to hope so. Your name's Vic, isn't it?"

I definitely had respect for him. He didn't even flinch at that. "You have me mistaken, Mr. Dibny. My name is Matt Murdock--"

"You do realize that's a name from a comic book, don't you?" I responded wryly. "And, you're not blind."

"Before accusing, you should know that I have documents stating otherwise."

Folding my arms, I shrugged. "Forgery. And, when you paid for your tea earlier, your dollar bills weren't folded. The blind have a way of folding them to recognize the difference between a five dollar bill to a ten. Also, Booster and Beatriz -- to my knowledge anyway -- don't know a blind man named Matt or Vic."

"So you know who they are." His voice was no longer soft and pretending to be friendly. It immediately sounded off-kilter, unsteady. It also sounded more honest. "How long have you been watching us?"

"Not that long. Couple of hours," I admitted. "I saw Booster step out and Beatriz talk to you."

"And so you really don't know..." His voice was soft and apologetic.

I raised a brow. "Don't know what?"

"It's nothing. You really should go back home, Ralph." Vic shook his head. "You don't want to be caught up in this business."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Take my opinion. Their worlds have already turned over. As I understand it, so has yours. I'd rather not push it with you." He paused. "You must be working with that detective... Nick Bounty."

I nodded. "He thinks you're a metahuman menace."

A faint smirk showed up on Vic's face. "I wouldn't really call myself a metahuman. Nor a menance, not necessarily... I'm not a danger to innocents."

"Are you their friend? I mean. Booster and Beatriz's."

Vic paused, then nodded. "...I would think so, yes. We are."

"Who's the guy going by 'Peter Parker'? I don't think I saw him."

"I'm afraid that's a mystery I'll leave to you, Ralph. I don't think you'd believe me if I told you." He turned his head away. "Can you put me back down to the street? I have to go home."

Taking him back down to the street, I had to ponder. Why didn't he want to me to know? Why wouldn't I believe him?

He was strange. Smart, no doubt. But definitely strange. I couldn't recall for the life of me of any instance where Booster, Beatriz, or Guy would have known someone like him, save for maybe Batman. And that was no Batman.

He was someone else entirely.

I decided I had to stew over this.

---

It was a day to spend on research. I had enough clues, I decided, to try to figure out just who the hell this man named Vic was. Just a first name. A first name, and someone who knew a dead man named Aristotle Rodor.

I checked out Rodor. A brilliant scientist, and part-time philosopher. He used to teach at a college in Chicago, but had a home outside of Hub City. After stopping his job as a college professor, he moved to Hub.

Made some notes, compared them to others I had. Rodor taught at the same college that Dan Garrett had. Garrett, who was also a college professor to the late Ted Kord.

It was a connection and no coincidence, but what did that make Vic? Possibly someone who could have known Ted. But how? They'd never been classmates. I double checked that.

There was a point in time, I looked, where Ted had started his Blue Beetle career in Hub City, even though he was a Chicago-born man. Around the time he started, there'd been varying documents of a no-faced man in Chicago.

And somewhere along the way, they'd switched cities after a few partnering cases.

At that same time, there'd been a man named Vic Sage -- his birth name was actually Charles Victor Szasz; just how many names did he have for himself? -- who started his career as a journalist in Chicago, then moved back to his hometown in Hub City.

A connection for sure.

That man was no doubt Vic Sage, and the same faceless man who'd teamed up with Ted. Also known as the Question, who'd teamed up with Green Arrow -- Oliver Queen.

Vic Sage, who'd been fairly close to a man named Aristotle Rodor, who was born in Philadelphia.

It was an interesting cycle going. Professor Rodor had created a material called pseudoderm, meant to impersonate skin and act as a bandage. It was also very effective as a mask, I didn't doubt.

So if Vic was a friend of Ted's back before even Ted's League days, what was he doing in Philadelphia with Booster and the others? Maybe he'd gone to meet them, sure. Vic probably heard about what happened, or found out on his own if he was as obsessive as everyone claimed he was.

Why did they have different names? Why was he pretending to be blind?

Who was Peter Parker supposed to be?

I didn't tell Nick Bounty about anything that I knew yet. I couldn't. For whatever reason, they were probably hiding. It made sense; the house they lived in was originally purchased by Bruce Wayne. It explained how they had new identities, fake documents, and anything else they needed to be supplied with.

Why was Bruce hiding them?

I wasn't going to ask him myself. I didn't feel like I could go to the League with this. I didn't feel like I could go to anyone, to be honest. Things had been tense for awhile, but... it felt more tense. Probably because of Blue Beetle. I didn't know how he died, and no one was sharing that piece of info with me.

I was probably due for another meeting with Vic Sage.

---

Third day, and somehow I wasn't surprised to find him seated at the same place, same pub, same drink.

I was certain that it was this time and last time that he had been expecting me to join him. If was any good as Batman, he probably knew I had been following him that time.

I stretched out to sit across from him.

"So, do you prefer Charles or Vic?" I wondered.

"I changed my name officially to Victor. There was only one other that kept calling me 'Charlie'," he mused quietly. "So I'd prefer 'Vic', if you don't mind."

"You knew Ted Kord."

There was that flat line of his lips again. "Mm-hmm."

"Do you know what happened to him?"

Vic's brows knitted faintly. "You don't know?"

"Wally wasn't too descriptive," I responded. Should I have known?

"I don't know if it's my place to say. I find it interesting you desire to talk to me and not those you're very familiar with. Seems to be a habit amongst you."

"I don't think they'd be very comfortable right about this whole thing." I shrugged. "My reasons for investigation have changed, but..."

Faintly, Vic smiled at me and said, "I understand. I haven't told them that you're here. I figure that's up to you. But my suggestion's still the same. You shouldn't get yourself involved in these matters, Ralph. You have enough on your plate."

"...So you know about that."

Vic turned his head down faintly. "I keep tabs on everyone I meet."

I squinted a little. What? "We've met before?"

"I should find it offensive that a lot of people don't remember me. But then, we always go by faces." I was sure that if he was a normal man, he would have laughed. "We met at Oliver's funeral."

It should have been obvious. "You had shades on then, too."

"I have a hard time admitting my emotions," Vic murmured. "Then and now."

"You know about Sue."

He nodded. "I do. ... I'm sorry. There've been far too many losses for all of us. This is why I suggest you turn around, Ralph. I'm not sure if you'll find relief or horror. In your case, I can relate only a little. I have never lost a wife, what was meant to be my other half. But I have lost a best friend. As has Beatriz. As Michael has. Even Guy has lost his fair share of loved ones, though it's often pain we'll never let ourselves admit to or realize. Regardless... you should go home. You've found out the truth of Matt Murdock and those who live with him. You don't have anything else to do here."

"I still don't know who Peter is supposed to be." I wondered then what he had been trying to warn me of.

"And that is a mystery that should keep. ...But if you insist on finding out, know that I've tried to warn you, Ralph."

"Why are you keeping it such a secret?"

"For his sake, and yours. I would do almost anything to protect him and everyone else under that roof," Vic replied gently. "And for you... you would not want to feel betrayl for those left in your life."

The meeting ended a little more sadly than I wanted. Who was he protecting so badly?

The Question had never been too social. He didn't even get along with Superman, and not so much with Batman -- well, most don't get along with the Dark Knight, especially these days. As far as I knew, he'd only really teamed with three, maybe four people tops. Blue Beetle, Green Arrow, the Huntress, and Azrael. Two of them were gone, and another had died before.

Not a lucky guy.

Most of us haven't been lately, either.

What was the mystery?

My nose twitched.

---

Four days in.

I decided to check in at the household.

Wally was wrong.

---

Fifth day. I couldn't understand it. From the sounds of things, Wally knew for sure, was completely confident of the fact that Ted had died. But I saw him. It wasn't much of a disguise, but it would throw off people who wouldn't have known better.

I thought about it, the day before. I thought for a long time, and I couldn't figure it out. Was Batman hiding them? Why was he hiding them? Were they in trouble, and with who? Who could possibly want to hunt these people down? Beetle and Booster were notorious for getting into trouble, sure, but no one would go out of their way to try to find and really kill them, would they?

I didn't know. Just couldn't think of it.

Again, I found myself at the pub, and I suppose I was fortunate enough that Vic had walked in soon after. He must have anticipated for my arrival.

After all, he was a detective, too.

"You saw." His voice was normal for him, but still a little softer, a little compassionate.

"...Yeah." I grinned wryly, but that was forced.

"This isn't a good place to talk, no matter how out of the way."

In my silence, I agreed. Whatever they were hiding from, it wasn't safe to talk in public.

I followed him again to a graveyard, before the grave inscribed "Aristotle Rodor". I knew none of us could ever let go of the person most inspirational to us. Many of us are evident of that.

"He did die." There was no mask, but his voice suggested he certainly was the Question.

"Wouldn't be the first time the dead came back to life," I responded, a bit strained. Death never got easy to talk about.

He nodded. "Yes. But you don't know how."

"Wally didn't give many details, and I haven't looked much into it."

"You wouldn't find anything anyway, save for a few interesting details. I only know, because Ted told me while he was dead."

I had to pause to absorb that chunk of information. "Superman doesn't believe you."

"He only knows that I happen to have the stench of magic, something that makes him feel vulnerable. A fear, and **Gods **despise that feeling. Regardless... I have the ability to **See **energy, **Speak **to cities, as well as the dead. If they so capable. Ted was killed by injustice, and lingered afterwards. He then came to me for help. Afterwards, I discovered a few things. Maxwell Lord was his murderer, and was also involved in Checkmate. You know what that is. He is the Black King, a leading member. They chased me, and were after Booster because he knew there'd been a conspiracy Ted was following." The Question paused. "Are you familiar with the azure scarab?"

"It powered the first Blue Beetle. That's all I know," I admitted. The information he was pouring out... It sounded impossible. There were rumors of the Question's insanity, and I was aware that Superman felt the same about him. It didn't help that the Question could probably hurt him, with whatever magic he did perform.

"It was that very thing that revived Ted. I had found his body earlier, and the League kept it. It completely healed him and brought him back to us... with powers, linked to his emotions. Batman has been hiding us since we got ahold of Maxwell Lord. The League has him currently... for however secure that could be. At least three members of the League are aware of Ted's revival, and Checkmate's involvement. J'onn, Superman, and Batman. It's like they've also informed Wonder Woman, not anyone else. In the Society, they've told only Dr. Fate that I'm aware of. They did informed Beatriz on the account of her insistence, and Guy Gardner in the feeling that he could persuade us to be more cooperative. And that would be the short story, Ralph."

My arms had drooped all the way to the snow-covered ground, and I... it seemed impossible.

Seemed. A lot of things did. But if anything, I was sure that the Question wasn't a liar. A little crazy, sure, he just might have been, but I wasn't given any reason yet to not believe him.

"Ted never told me he was... investigating anything," I said quietly.

The Question looked away. "He didn't tell me either. Not until he was dead. ... It was likely he didn't want to include you, considering what you've already lost. And not me, because my hands were constantly full."

Nobody talked about Hub City. I knew why. In ways, it was worse than Gotham. On par with Bludhaven. It was not filled with supervillains; just the corrupt, and the criminals. Barely any innocent folk left, and those that were would probably be starving.

Not that I'd been aware of that much until I did research on the Question and his origins, best I could.

"Why didn't the League do anything to help him?" That part seemed incredulous. Why hadn't Ted asked for help?

I knew behind his shades that the Question was scowling, lips curled and ready to growl. "He asked Batman. He ignored him. He asked the League. They doubted him. There were only a few who did. Booster, Diana... and it sounds as though Ted is still fond of Oracle, so I shall mention her. Not a long list, is it?"

"But that's impossible. They know him, why wouldn't they help him?"

"I have an answer to that. But it's not one you'll want to hear, Ralph. You're a detective; you should figure it out." The Question shook his head. "I'll be honest. I never liked the League. I never thought the idea of a group of costumed aliens and metahumans and people was a grand idea. Countless times, yes, they have saved the world. But often times, the lesser known areas are forgotten. How well have you looked into my background?"

"Well as I could. You're not exactly a symbol, not even on a third-stringer level, no offense." At that, I could smile wryly. I needed a bit of humor. This was too much to swallow. Question was speaking, as though it'd come with great practice, too often said. Too often ranted.

"And you know of Hub City."

"I know enough," I admitted.

The Question nodded. "It's been dying for over a decade. Not as long as Gotham, I'd wadger. But it's deteriorated faster. It doesn't have a family protecting it. It doesn't have enough people to care. It doesn't even have a man in spandex doing his best. Not anymore..."

"Beetle started there."

"He did. He thought he could pick it back up to its feet." His tone lightened. "He thought he could rescue it. But after a team-up, I saw something different in him. He was tired. It was already getting to him. I told him to leave... and not look back. What I've become... well, it wasn't a fate I wanted for him. Because he's not Batman. Because he's not me. Not a Nightwing, or a Superman. He never was, never could be. And that's... what makes him human, not wishing to be a **God.** And I didn't want Hub to take away his humanity. ... Regardless. You know what kind of place it is. And it's something ignored."

I realized, then. "You don't like the League, because they never tried to save Hub City."

"...I don't like it when self-proclaimed heroes ignore a problem. It was in my hands. They ignored Hub. And they ignored Beetle. I don't like ignorance." The Question lifted his head. "But I know ... that, even though he's angry, Ted still cares for them. As do the rest. They were never my family, of course."

I did smile a little. "I know they made a few mistakes, Vic. Big ones, to boot. But don't you think they're also hurting for it? It might not seem like it from your point of view. But Batman's helping hide you all. They haven't told anyone about any of you. They're protecting you."

The Question made a noise. I don't think he agreed with me.

"I'll respect the fact that you don't like them. Not everyone does. But, believe it or not, they're human too -- you know, emotionally, I mean some are aliens and stuff. They have made mistakes and that shows it."

Turning his head away, he still didn't seem convinced. I shrugged.

"You should still go home, Ralph. There's nothing left here for you."

"You're wrong about that." I sighed. "Definitely wrong. Back at home, I have less. I have more things I can do here than I can do there. I have friends here, Vic. They could use me, and... I could use them."

Quietly, he took off his shades. His contacts gave a blind eye effect, but he was still looking directly at me. "...I still suggest otherwise. But... I think it'd make them happy."

There was definitely a smile on my face, as far as I could stretch.

---

That night, fifth night, I walked with Vic all the way back to his home. He assured me no one else followed us, and I reassured myself with a few quick stretches.

Inside, I was sure that it was a great surprise to everyone. An unannounced reunion of the Superbuddies, or J.L.I., or just friends.

But there was an undeniable amount of bad jokes, "bwa ha ha ha"s, and maybe some tears.

They say the death of a loved one causes a hole in your chest that you ache to fill.

I think mine got a little bit more full.


	15. Coleoptera Carabidae

**Disclaimers and Useless/Useful Stuff to Know:**

Don't own any of these characters. Never will. Wish I did. Major spoilers for "Countdown to Infinite Crisis". Good idea to read the comic first. Also, spoilers for the Question six-issue miniseries.

To note; the scene with Billy is primarily the work of SLWatson, and much thanks are ado to them for their talent.

---

**Warning: The Pool is Contaminated**

by Alba Aulbath

---

"Any news from Dibny?"

Nick Bounty winced a little from hearing Wendy ask that.

He was in his personal office at his apartment, sitting at his laptop. He hadn't expected her to come by, even though he'd given her the location of his home. Funny, he swore he locked the door...

"A few days ago," he admitted. "Said he didn't find a thing on them, but he'd keep looking into it."

Wendy lifted a brow. "You accept that?"

Nick snorted. "Hardly. Dibny's lying -- protecting them. But I think I know why."

"Oh? Did you find something out?"

Nodding, Nick swiveled his chair to completely face his partner. "Yeah. That woman I met with Murdock? Green-haired lady? I recognized her then. I figured out why, looking at some old files of mine. She's Beatriz DaCosta, also known as Fire. She was part of a few superhero teams. The Global Guardians, then the League, then the Superbuddies. She also used to have a website. I dunno what the heck she's doing out here, though. But I know the guy she claims to be marrying, too. Pretty good at hiding himself, though."

There was an amused smile on Wendy's face, but something in Nick didn't let him like it. "Who is he?"

"Vic Sage. Used to be a star reporter in Hub City and Chicago. Showed up in Gotham and Metropolis a few times. His real name's Charles Szasz, but he changed it when he got into stardom. Guess he went nuts after living in a place like Hub for so long. Place makes Bludhaven blush in shame."

"Ah, but can you tell me what a woman like Beatriz DaCosta is doing with a former celebrity pretending to be blind?" Wendy wondered; it was almost as if she was toying with Nick, and it made him scowl.

"Either she's got strange taste -- which wouldn't shock me; heroes seem attracted to the reporter types -- or she and Dibny are hiding a few metas for whatever reason. Never figured Vic Sage as a metahuman, though."

"What do you think of metas, Mr. Bounty?"

Nick raised a brow. "Wha...?"

Her lips pressed into a firm, thin line. "Your opinion on metas."

"You got good guys and bad guys, pretty much like humans. I can't complain, unless they start nailing dead rodents on innocent people's doors," Nick remarked. "Why?"

There was a darker look on Wendy's face, and she said softly, "I think you'd better come with me."

"Now--"

There was a gun aimed at his face, and Wendy Crown was holding it. "You will come with me, or you suffer the fate of one of your beloved metahumans."

---

Night brought ambivalence.

It was hard to say what emotions were on the top of the situation. On one part, there was anxiety -- after all, it wasn't every day that someone told the JLA, in no uncertain terms, to shove it; though it'd occurred some weeks ago, as it was currently December 22nd. At any rate, it was easy to assume that they may decide to press the issue to the breaking point, and equally easy to assume that they may take the not-so-subtle hint and let it go.

On the other hand, there was pride -- they did, afterall, tell the JLA to shove it. It was bold and decisive and it felt good, even if it did open up a potential can of worms. It wasn't helping much that they, now, also had Ralph close by. Though he was hardly as bitter as the rest of them, he still had their viewpoint and was prepared to defend them better than he would the JLA. He just didn't share their anger.

It was late, and the house was relatively quiet. Ralph was still at his hotel room (though he said he'd come by during the evening hours), and Bea was in the shower, going onto her second hour in the bathroom. Guy was racked out upstairs, no doubt nursing a badly bruised jaw -- earlier in the evening, Guy and Vic exchanged some unpleasant words with one another; Guy mentioned that Vic was more tolerable as a woman, and Vic shared his feelings with a fist. Ted was somewhere upstairs, probably reading, and because Vic was walking his spider around the house, probably reading behind a locked door.

And Booster was sitting on the couch, trying hard not to think about anything... not about death or life or Dr. Fate or the JLA or Ralph or Tora or Michelle or Alison. He didn't want to think anymore. He just wanted to zone out in front of the TV, watching something completely mindless, not thinking.

TV, by the nature of being TV, was good for mindlessness. And as late as it was getting, Cinemax might have something... interesting on.

He was so absorbed in being mindless that he didn't hear the first knock. The second one, however, percolated into his head; by the third he put it all together and eyed the door. The thought didn't fail to cross his mind that he could look out and see the whole JLA standing out there, ready to... to... do something.

Making his way to the door, cautiously, he turned the porch light on and tried to see out the peephole... didn't have much luck there. He debated on calling the others down, and decided against it -- if it was anyone there to cause trouble, he doubted that a knock would have been in order. It might be that crazy detective, but...

He finally decided to be bold and decisive again and worked his way down the innumerable locks, before cracking the door open and peeking out.

It wasn't the JLA, or Checkmate, or the crazy detective. It was... a kid?

The boy looked back, one eyebrow going up as he readjusted the grip he had on the box under his arm. He blinked once, twice, then asked, "Booster? What'd you do to your hair?"

Booster blinked himself a few times, perplexed as he opened the door a little wider. The kid looked familiar somehow; black hair, eyes somewhere between blue and gray, around sixteen or so -- standing on that edge between boyhood and manhood. "I... dyed it," he answered, trying to place the kid. One of the Titans? Someone's child?

"I'm sorry it's so late. I would've dropped this stuff off earlier, but I had to finish up a book report." The kid shivered a little, shoving his free hand into his White Sox jacket. "Mind if I come in?"

"No, I don't." Who the heck was he! Not wanting to look like an idiot by not remembering, Booster stepped aside and closed the door behind them, temporarily forgetting about the locks.

The kid moved over and set the box on the coffee table with a grin, talking as he opened it, "I didn't know what kinda movies you guys had, so I brought some DVDs over, and some music. You know, odds and ends? I really wanted to come by sooner, but things have been..." He shook his head, pulling out the movies and CDs and stacking them. "...hectic."

"Yeah." He'd been watching the whole time, but he finally gave up. Even though the kid looked familiar, he couldn't figure it out. "...who are you?"

The boy looked over at him and stood up straight, amusement stealing across his face. "Geez, I thought everyone..." He chuckled, shaking his head again. "I'll give you a hint. We used to be team-mates, a long time ago. And you know my sister." And then he went back to unpacking the box.

Again, this left Booster trying to think. Teammate, long time ago... well, unless some weird time distortion thingy happened, that was almost impossible. And his sister? When the boy unpacked three whole packages of Oreos, though, Booster took a guess, "Captain Marvel?"

"About half the time," the kid answered, with yet another grin. "Billy Batson, the other half."

"No." Booster couldn't believe that. First, Marvel was an adult. Second, that would have made this kid what, ten? when they served together. And third... well, the first and second reasons were good enough! Maybe it was J'onn, shapeshifting... crap, now he was being as paranoid as Bats.

"Yes."

"No. No way."

"Awww, geez, Booster... do I have to prove it? I don't want to have to prove it. It'd be disruptive." Billy looked almost exasperated, though it seemed like he was taking it in relatively good humor.

"I think it'd be a good idea."

A shrug. "Don't say I didn't warn you." He whispered something...

...and all hell broke loose.

There was the near deafening boom of thunder and the brilliant flash of light. Within moments, everyone was downstairs, probably expecting the battle of the century to be taking place in their livingroom. Captain Marvel crossed his arms, wearing that expression of patient amusement. "I did warn him."

Booster looked over the top of the couch (which he had dove behind) in time to see Guy snarl, "Who invited you?" and Beatriz tying her bathrobe, and Ted eye the superhero a little warily as the last of the white and gold smoke dissolved into nothingness. Vic looked the least surprised... which, of course, was no surprise.

"I thought I would bring some things by." Marvel turned his attention to Ted, and smiled... a real smile, relieved and warm. "You have no idea how glad I am you're okay. They gave me the news while I was broadcasting and they had to pull me off the mike and have someone else read it."

Ted smiled back, but it faded after a moment, though it didn't vanish. "How'd you find us?"

Marvel flicked a glance to Vic, who was perching his spider on his shoulder. "We have a wizard in common." Then back to Ted again. "I don't know much about what's going on, but I wanted to come by anyway."

"Yeah, right. Probably scouting for the JLA," Guy muttered.

"Just ignore him. He's already suckerpunched today -- maybe twice," Booster said, finally leaving his hiding place and dropping on the couch.

"Third time's a charm," the Captain answered, and it was hard to tell if he was joking or serious. He finally acknowledged Bea with a half-wave, then sat down on the arm of the couch. "Does anyone want to fill me in? Wait... I probably don't want to know any more."

Vic started to answer, but a glance from Ted stopped him, and the Blue Beetle fielded the question. "Why, what do you know?"

Marvel raised an eyebrow, no doubt knowing perfectly well that he was being prodded for information that he didn't have to begin with, but he answered without hesitation. "That you were reported dead, that everyone's being very tightlipped about what happened, and that the Wizard is worried."

Again with the Wizard. Booster didn't speak up, but he looked between Vic and Marvel, then decided he just wanted to go back to Plan A and not think anymore.

"You probably don't wanna know, then," Beetle answered, honestly, finally relaxing now that it was obvious that World War Three wasn't going to take place.

"This is bull." Guy shook his head, glaring darts at the Captain. "You're as bad as Superman. Why are you here, anyway? Make us see the error of our ways?"

"Guy..." Ted warned, but it was a hair too late. Captain Marvel stood, a solid mixture of hurt and anger crossing his face.

"Why am I here?" He looked at each of them, eyes darkening. "Fire... did you know you were just an air-headed, flirty bimbo model? And Booster... you were just an idiot out for yourself. And Guy, you were the moron who'd never be as good as Hal Jordan, not to mention that you used to have a haircut that an eight-year-old would be embarrassed about. And Beetle... the entrepreneur with some nifty gadgets, nothing special."

As three of the four people just mentioned bristled, about ready to wage war, Ted spoke with a wry half-smile, "And you were just the Superman knockoff with a magic gimmick, too naive to take seriously."

"Yeah," Marvel answered, as the storm passed and he answered with his own rueful grin. "Exactly." He shot Guy a look, challenging, "Does that answer your question?"

To his credit, Guy didn't say anything else, besides, "I'm gonna go get some ice," as he stalked to the kitchen.

"So, what'd you bring?" Bea asked, nodding towards the box.

"DVDs, CDs, Oreos, theater-style popcorn..." Marvel shrugged. "The essentials."

"Plan on staying?" Ted moved over to look through the pile of movies, feeling... well, pretty good, actually. Though he was still wondering about the Wizard comments.

"No, I have to get back home. Speaking of... might wanna cover your eyes or ears, whichever one you think is more important."

Booster was the only one who listened, though he still heard the hard crack of thunder and the bright light still flashed right through his eyelids. But at least this time he didn't dive behind the couch.

Billy pulled a card out of his jacket pocket before the last of the magic smoke faded, and offered it over to Ted, who was blinking the worst of the spots out of his vision. "If you ever need me... call. My home number's on the back, and Mary's number's on there too."

Ted finished rubbing his eyes and took the card, nodding, firmly deciding not to wonder what the neighbors thought about the two lightning strikes. "Thanks. I appreciate it."

"Me too," the boy answered, a little cryptically, turning and heading for the door.

Blue Beetle got that one, too... maybe he'd been around Vic a little too long. "Hey, Bill?"

Halfway out the door, Billy turned back, "Yeah, Beetle?"

"We were proud of you, too."

The smile he got in answer was one of the brightest he'd seen in a very long time. And then the kid was gone.

---

Wendy had led him away towards the river -- it was high and cold with ice and frost on its banks -- and there appeared to be several armed men waiting for her as well. They all had the same mark. A knight from chess.

Where'd he seen that before?

"Nicholas Bounty," Wendy said lowly. "You have helped lead me to certain individuals we've been tracking for months now. They are a variety of superheroes you may or may not be familiar with. We were originally after the Question -- you know as Vic Sage or Matt Murdock -- and Booster Gold -- real name Michael Jon Carter, currently known as Scott Summers. But it also appears other people have joined them, one of them still unknown to us. At any rate, you have aided in our search and we will be preparing to detain these rebel metahumans."

"Who the hell are you people?" Nick grumbled.

Wendy smirked softly. "We are Checkmate. You might be somewhat familiar with the name. And I am the White Queen."

"That sounds painfully ironic."

"We're offering you the chance to join us, Bounty. Don't make a stupid decision."

This couldn't bode well, Nick decided. "What the heck do you want from a two-bit superhero who sells sunglasses, and a crazy man from Hub City?"

"They have information. Far too much. It was the intention behind our Black King to be rid of all metas, and make promise for the human race's future."

"Don't they save our butts pretty much everyday?"

"You might also consider the fact that the Justice League and Justice Society and several other teams are literally armies. If they went renegade, like so many have gotten close to doing, we'd be in trouble. Big trouble." Wendy growled softly. "You know how dangerous even the Question can be. You felt it firsthand."

That was true, but... "He's also known for being a nutcase. Not a good enough reason to wipe out all capes and cowls."

"You won't side with us?"

Nick smirked. "I'll eat my shoes first."

Sighing softly, Wendy murmured, "Very well."

Nick gritted for whatever would come next.

Three shots into his back from where she stood, all three going through his body. Into a lung and-- hell if he knew what else. Falling forward, a pair of hands caught him by the shoulders.

"Merry Christmas, Mr. Bounty."

There was a sharp coldness as he was thrown into the river, pounding against him as his fingers feebly clawed for purchase, finding none. He coughed water and blood and he knew he was probably going to drown, and he at least felt okay with that fact; he'd done something pretty stupid, after all.

Something grabbed onto his arm and pulled him onto the bank.

Staring up blankly as he gagged for air, it was a dark-haired woman.

That was all he knew before he passed out.

---

It was a relatively early morning; ten o' clock, not a bad time to get up after a long night of movies, arguments, and keeping Vic and Guy from getting into a fight. Ted knew he should have felt lucky that they hadn't shattered anything yet, aside from Vic's obsession with breaking windows.

Yawning, he went through the routine of making toast with a bowl of cereal. Approaching the fridge for milk, he paused, a bit surprised to come upon a note nailed into the door.

His first instinct was to shout at Vic for not using a magnet, but his eyes trailed over what the note said. Then, he frowned deeply, muttering softly, "What...?"

_Everyone -_

_Ralph and I will be gone for the entire day until tomorrow evening. Please don't worry._

_Someone who isn't Guy please look after Q-Spider._

_-- ?_

What the hell?

Ted frowned. Where did they run off to?

---

_Looking up, he saw the Eye glaring down at him, the eye in the sky._

_"Again," he mumbled, exasperated, holding his lack of face into his hands. "What is this...? Every night, every time..."_

_"You have to listen to me."_

_Instinctively, the Question pulled away, staring up. "Don't... Don't touch me. Don't..."_

_"Why won't you LISTEN to me?"_

_"Everytime... everytime, it hurts, I can feel it -- but I can't retain it..."_

_"You... you can see what happened?"_

_The Question lowered his head. "...Yes. ... But I can barely remember it. Something split your mind apart?"_

_"Someone, more like."_

_"Someone..." He pondered._

_He came to the conclusion. Ever since he tried to take the Question's body--_

_"Psychopomp," and his eyes would have widened if he had any. "But why you?"_

_"Well... he was looking for YOU. And you were never exactly easy to get information on."_

_"...Who are you?" The Question stood to try to get a better look, but it was too dim._

_"Thought you'd know by now. I'm _C'mon, Vic we have to go."

Feeling his shoulder shake a few times, Vic lifted his head to look up at Ralph. Sighing softly, he rubbed his face a bit. "...Fell asleep."

"You probably needed it; you always look so tired." Stretching his limbs up to grab their bags, Ralph motioned with his head. "Anyway, plane ride's over."

"Ralph..." Vic hesitated for a moment, then frowned. "How long did you know Maxwell?"

"Lord?" At Vic's nod, Ralph thought for a moment. "Few years. Eight now, I think. ...Still surprised what he did, but... I was surprised at what Jean was capable of, too."

Standing up, Vic accepted a bag. "So it seems odd to you that he'd suddenly act like this."

"Well, yeah." The Elongated Man led the way out of the plane. "He wasn't exactly a nice guy, but he wasn't evil either. You know? Even if he was part of Checkmate all this time, I know he was wrong when he said he kept the League 'inactive'. Sure, we were cracking jokes all the time then, but that doesn't mean we were incapable." He glanced over his shoulder to Vic, grinning a little. "But I think you know that."

Nodding in return and in agreement, Vic murmured, "Not enough value optimism, even if not all of us are capable of it."

Ralph looked at him quietly, but made no remark. "Well, let's get going..."

They continued out of the airport.

---

"Ted, it's not like they went out to blow something up," Beatriz said with a soft sigh, leaning against the armrest of the couch.

"Oh, no you don't!" Ted pointed wildly at her. "Last time he skipped out with someone, it was with YOU, and he came back as a girl because he peeved off Dr. Fate!"

"Which isn't too hard, you know," Booster pointed out. "Remember that magic paperweight?"

"Which was also YOUR fault."

"My point still stands!"

Bea held up her hand to intervene. "Look on the bright side, Ted. He's with Ralph."

"Who is NOT exactly 'Mr. Responsibility'," Ted muttered.

"Oh, and I know for sure that you're the shining example." The green-haired woman rolled her eyes. "It's not as if Ralph is going to endorse Vic in acts of violence, wherever they are."

"I suppose it could be worse," Ted admitted, folding his arms and sinking a little further into the couch.

"There you go. Be a little more positive."

"He could be with YOU."

Beatriz narrowed her eyes, looking ready to burst into flames.

"Or he could be with Guy," Booster added hastily, in hopes that Beatriz would decide not to fry them; he was sure that the house received enough damage from their shenanigans as it was.

"Now that's just unlikely, but way more destructive than I ever want to imagine," Ted responded.

Folding her arms, Beatriz kept her gaze steadfast on Ted, frowning at him. "You know, is it just me... or has being inside for the past few months been making you incredibly cynical and bitter?"

"Getting shot and killed might have something to do with it."

"Okay; perfectly good reason to be upset. But you've hardly taken a step outside. Hell, Vic goes outside more than YOU do."

Ted squinted at her. "There's a point to this, right?"

Sighing, Fire turned her head to the other man. "Booster, get Guy. All of us? Are going out."

Though he looked a little concerned -- after all, putting all of them into a public place was going to sound disasterous -- Booster shrugged and got up to fetch Guy.

Ted seemed to also think similarly that chaos was around the corner. "And doing WHAT? And where? Why now?"

Beatriz pressed her lips into a flat line. "Shopping. Now. Don't tell me you've done all your Christmas shopping."

"You don't know that," Ted responded, folding his arms.

"You haven't gone out."

"I have my ways! Amazon dot com!"

Beatriz peered at him. "Up. Now. Get your shoes. We're going."

---

What remained of the Kord household prior to the Blue Beetle's death wasn't much. It was blackened and crisp, a skeleton of it leftover, looking almost... haunted.

Bruce Wayne, as both detectives found, had bought the land shortly after the League found out that Ted Kord had been killed. It remained untouched; what little stood was burned and covered with soot and snow.

Ralph stood just outside of the remains, frowning a little. "So what are you looking for?"

"Anything whole. Anything worthwhile." Vic took off his fedora placing it atop the snow covered, neglected mailbox. "Personal objects, if possible."

Both men held bags, open and prepared to take burnt remains whole enough leftover amongst the debris. While Ralph was stretching himself over the area, to search in the mess; Vic knelt down and carefully sorted, bit by bit.

They had the intentions of stopping by Booster's apartment first, in hope; he didn't have any objects leftover from his childhood, obviously. But there were still some irreplacable things. Photographs, old gifts from friends during this time period -- it was a fruitless effort, though, they'd soon learned. It was already being reconstructed, and anything left was dumped.

Vic had been angry. Ralph had been sympathetic. They couldn't do anything then.

But there they were, at least, at the remains of what had once been Beetle's home.

Carefully, Ralph picked up a photograph, glass broken off, picture dirty and burnt around the edges, but it had been saved by its framing. Turning his head, he watched for a moment as Vic studied what had once probably been a gadget of Ted's, beetle in design and melted and useless.

"Do you know what happened here, exactly?" Ralph asked curiously. "I know bombs went off at Booster's, but..."

Turning his head up to stare up at the sky, suddenly looking somehow even more tired than usual, Vic spoke softly, "Eye in the sky."

"Eye in the..." The Elongated Man looked nothing short of confused, staring up where the Human Enigma was looking.

"A satellite. Batman created it, Checkmate took it. Don't really know many details..."

Ralph felt that something was being left out. Tilting his head, he asked, "What else?"

"I dream about it. A lot. That much, I'm aware of. I can't retain much what I dream of, but..." A pause, as Vic scowled. "I remember it staring at me," he added quietly; his tone hinted that it was most discomforting.

In spite of being some feet away, Ralph still stretched a hand over to gently place to the Human Enigma's shoulder. "It's just a dream, right? I mean, come on. I had a dream once where Batman was in an Easter Bunny suit with J'onn and Superman singing opera in the background."

Vic looked at him wryly; the Elongated Man suspected that was as close as he was going to get to a smile.

"I don't think it's a normal dream," Vic responded quietly.

"I figured." Ralph took his hand back, returning to gathering remains. "You always look really tired. You get, what, maybe two hours of sleep every night? If even."

Not saying a word, Vic closed his eyes and sighed. "I don't like thinking about it."

Genuinely curious -- Ralph would possibly blame his detective's instinct for it -- he stretched his neck out curiously to look at him. "How come?"

Eyes staying closed and frowning, Vic mumbled, "I get... scared."

"It's okay to be scared."

Vic's eyes opened as he lifted his head to stare at Ralph, scowling, obviously disagreeing.

"Seriously. Everyone gets scared all the time; we don't usually admit to it, but we get freaked out. Even Batman does."

"I haven't been scared... in awhile." Vic glanced aside, away from Ralph. "...I haven't recognized a lot of things until Ted came to me for help."

"Then, don't y'think it's about time you recognized your own humanity?" Ralph suggested, with a smile to match his optimism.

It was a difficult thing to even admit to, in the kind of world they lived in; humanity. To a point, it was Vic's argument based on groups like the Justice League that they were lacking in humanity, which was becoming their failure. It was unlikely that anyone else was going to agree on that extreme, but... disconnecting oneself from humanity made it pointless to fight for humanity.

But, he too had lost that. And it was hypocrisy he also loathed.

Vic shook his head. "...Let's finish here, okay?"

---

It was about twenty minutes of arguing before any of them were even able to reach the mall, quite honestly. Guy didn't want to be anywhere close to the Volkswagon beetle, and even less wanted to be inside of it; it was cramped and it meant Being Too Close to everyone else. It had led to Booster suggesting that Guy had a fear of cooties, thus sprung up an argument before Booster had turned to Ted and said,

"MOOOOOM, Guy's picking on me!"

Ted was very close to saying that they should just fly to the mall, but he valued their safety quite a bit.

Eventually, it had come down to Beatriz bursting into flames and telling them to get the hell into the car. While Beetle and Booster scurried to obey, Ted was forced to drag and throw Guy into the car to make him comply; he hadn't been very impressed by angry women on fire, considering he, unlike many, had seen it far too often. That, and he was Guy Gardner, Rambo with a ring. And though Ted did not think it was all that wise to let Fire drive, he wasn't about to argue the point. He didn't want her to set the car on fire.

Once they were actually inside the mall, Ted felt completely uncomfortable, surrounded by mobs of people doing last minute shopping for Christmas gifts. Once upon a time, groups and crowds hadn't bothered him in the least, and it was even a thing he could have looked forward to.

Maybe Ted had gotten a little panicky since this whole mess.

Just a little panicky.

"This was a bad idea," he decided, grumbling.

Beatriz, however, was not about to agree. "Ted, you've been cooped up in that house for _months_. You needed to step out for awhile."

"Yeah, yeah. I get it!" Letting out an aggravated sigh, Ted threw his hands up into the air.

"And don't you even think about sneaking off!"

Rolling his eyes, Booster leaned over to Ted, muttering, "And I thought YOU were the mom."

Ted shot his best friend a glare in silence.

Fifteen minutes into walking through the hideously crowded mall, and already one of them had slipped off; Guy, somewhere along the way, had escaped the clutches of Beatriz. Displeased with this and positive that Guy was going to harass about thirty people within ten seconds, she hurried off to find him.

This left with two men completely uninterested in all manners of looking for gifts, especially in such a populated place. Ted sighed, holding his head and trying his best to ignore his surroundings, just as Booster caught his arm for attention. Lifting his head, Ted scowled and asked, "What?"

Red in the face, as though holding back a breath of air, Booster pointed at a toy shop. In a display window, all lined up, were Black Canary action figures.

Specifically, the ones designed were of her outfit back in the League days when both Booster Gold and Blue Beetle were part of it.

"You know, I think I found the perfect gifts for Ollie and Dinah," Ted mused, doing well not to burst out cackling in public. "Wait here, Booster."

As soon as his friend left for the toy store, Booster burst out laughing, leaning against the wall and holding his stomach. It was almost odd to laugh; difficult, even. Though telling jokes and teasing one another was fairly simple, actually finding something enjoyable had been... very, very complex for the past several months for him.

Probably the others, as well.

Come to think of it, he never once heard Vic laugh at anything. Rarely, even a smile. It was depressing.

"Um... Mr. Summers?"

Alert, Booster turned his head and stared down at the source of the voice; Alison, his coworker, waved cheerfully to him.

"Hey, I toldja to just call me Scott, okay? What's up, Ally?"

The girl's face colored scarlet, obviously embarrassed; still, she smiled brightly to him. "Well... um! I remember... you said... you said you're from Gotham, right?"

Booster nodded. "Yeah?"

"Do you... do you miss it?"

That was more difficult to say. Booster didn't regret the time period he was in, but at times... he did think of his family, or lack thereof in these times. Still, the honest answer--

"Sometimes," he said more quietly.

Somehow, this pleased Alison, which clashed with her cheerful disposition. Not immediately understanding why she'd be so happy about him missing his hometown, she dug into her coat before presenting a wrapped gift to Booster.

"I was gonna give it to you after our day off, but since yer here and I probably won't see you during Christmas -- um, Merry Christmas! -- I thought maybe I'll give it to you now since it's before the holiday and uh, gosh I'm just rambling." Once again embarrassed, Alison grinned sheepishly at Booster. "Anyway, I gotta go home now! Merry Christmas, Mr. Sum-- Scott!"

As the girl practically skipped away, Booster was alarmed at the gift.

He didn't get her a darned thing, now that he thought about it. It wasn't as though he was heartless or brushing off the girl; it just didn't occur to him to get his co-worker anything, especially since he didn't expect to remain a permenant resident of Philadelphia.

Carefully unwrapping it, he tried not to plant the palm of his hand to his face.

It was a snowglobe of Gotham City. To be more precise, it looked rather cartoonish, if only because of its fashion was an attempt to look somewhat more sci-fi and advanced. In Booster's eyes, it was a humorous attempt.

But the fact that what with Alison's basic pay and being troubled by something constantly -- it concerned him. Why would she spend money on him?

Booster sighed and set the snowglobe back into its box, waiting for Ted.

---

"What was she like?"

Deep into dusk and weaving into dawn, the questionable man and far more optimistic companion recognized just how damned cold it was, and moreso by laying into the snow and staring up into the sky where stars still glittered and the sun was prepared to lay claim again.

"You met her, didn't you? At Ollie's--"

"It doesn't count. I want you to tell me."

People said many things. People said that Ralph Dibny became sappy on the subject of his wife, may she rest in peace; it was only truth, but the second truth was the emotion behind words. Emotion was hard to interpret correctly. Most people couldn't even interpret their own emotion and determine why something exactly upset them, or why there was a mood swing.

Vic Sage had a very deductive mind, much like Ralph -- but it was his realization that he lacked the kind of emotional drive for awhile. He'd become almost robotic, much as he blamed the League for their diminishing humanity and soul. He could recognize emotion. He couldn't quite find his own, beyond anger and frustration. In a way, Ted requesting his aid was possibly a catalyst for good things indeed.

"What's Hub City like?"

Vic knew not many in tights and masks had ever been to Hub, and reasonably so. Essentially, it had taken some convincing to keep Blue Beetle away from it, when he had been far too determined to save it. Deep in his mind, much as he tried, Vic knew he couldn't ever save Hub City. Throughout his years of hard work and frustration, no good came of it. It was a city of decay and that was all one needed to know.

That much, he conveyed in his words.

He didn't quite recognize the reasoning for Ralph's grin until the detective spoke.

"It's okay to look out for people, but you're not going to get anywhere if you don't ask for some help sometimes. Solitude only gets you so far, y'know?"

It was a depressing truth; Vic had once been reliant on a friend, but by the time of his passing, it was solo work. Though Batman kept the company of sidekicks and an elderly butler, he was still terribly alone by his own decisions. It'd only been recently that Ralph had been thrown into being by himself, and it was beginning to bear its weight onto him.

A gathering of friends, new and old, was undeniably a benefit for all of them. A distance kept them vulnerable.

"That's what makes us different from a League."

Ralph laughed. "People usually call it a 'family'."

Somewhere, deep in his mind, Vic could hear it.

_It's dysfunctional, but that's part of the fun._

It wasn't a voice of his own, but Vic was inclined to agree.

---

"Now, see? That wasn't so bad," Beatriz told them firmly, taking the driver's side of the car.

Unfortunately, her companions hardly seemed to agree, the Blue Beetle particularly. "It was cramped with people doing last minute shopping and screaming children and--" Ted began grumble.

Over her shoulder, Bea shot him a look.

"Which I mean to say, of course, I had a lovely time," Ted added with a sigh, rather reluctantly.

Though Booster was inclined to agree for the sake of remaining uncharred by Beatriz's wrath, he preferred to say little at all. He still felt unsettled from the gift he received from Alison, turning the box in his hands as he tried not to think about it.

"Whaddaya got there, Gold?" Guy peered over the seat.

Booster instinctively ducked down, grumbling, "Nothing."

"What? A gift for Bugbutt?"

"No, someone gave it to me."

"Hey!" Guy whirled his head to look at Ted. "Do you know your boyfriend's cheating on you?"

While Ted sputtered, Booster snapped, "Shut UP, Guy!"

Beatriz gripped furiously on the steering wheel. "ALL of you shut up!"

"I knew this was a bad idea!" Ted complained, then paused. "...Does anyone else hear that?"

All heads turned to the Blue Beetle, while Guy expressed his confusion with a raised brow and saying, "What?"

"That clicking noise. What--?"

Unfortunately, Ted was cut off abruptly by their car exploding into a burst of flames that was not, indeed, caused by Beatriz.

---

_This isn't right at all._

It was as if his more intense dreams opened a new door. There was something different inside of him, and it was difficult to tell what it was. Vic just hadn't been able to define it, not since Psychopomp invaded his mind. It was as if...

As if there was another person in his head.

They'd returned from their intentions and hailed a taxi. Vic quietly followed Ralph into the car, leaning his forehead against the window.

_It's been quiet. And that Bounty guy hasn't followed you for awhile._

Vic wondered -- maybe it was just his paranoia. Everyone always said he was crazy. Maybe they'd been right.

_Only a little bit._

_Hey. You're gonna help me, right?_

Vic closed his eyes.

_I don't know exactly why you're so angry. But you've got to. Something's ... just wrong._

"Something always is," Vic mumbled quietly.

Ralph glanced to his companion, confused; however, the Human Enigma simply shook his head.

Once they stepped out of the taxi, it drove off down the street. Vic turned his head, looking at the driveway. It lacked the familiar Volkswagon Beetle. He didn't need to say anything; Ralph noticed the same, stopping behind the Question.

"Where the hell could they be? It's..." Ralph squinted tiredly at his watch. "Three? Three o'clock in the morning."

"Let me... **See**."

Vic crouched down, placing his bare hand to the pavement as he stared intently. **The tracks were faint and hours old. **No amount of Christmas shopping would explain their disappearance. **Philadelphia, once crowned city, where would they--?**

_**You're going to help me, right?**_

He twitched a little, then whispered softly, "I wouldn't know how. I don't know you."

_I don't know you. But we have people in common._

Vic shook his head, holding it. "They're not here," he announced, a little louder for Ralph. "They left awhile ago. ... Didn't come back. Don't know why."

"They shouldn't."

Both detectives turned their head sharply to the new voice; it was a woman, with short dark hair.

Glaringly familiar to Vic, if only due to memories touched to him by Ted's death.

No amount of description of absolute loathing, utter disgust in Vic's tone could convey his anger towards her as he said, "_You_."

_Her!_

However, Ralph remained confused. "Who?"

The woman sighed softly, looking reluctant. "My name is Sasha. And neither of you are safe here. And neither are your friends."

"Where! Where are they?" Vic snapped at her.

"...Mr. Sage."

"What _have you done_!"

Ralph lightly rested his hand to Vic's shoulder, to silence him only briefly. "Sasha? What's going on?"

"She's one of _them_," Vic muttered angrily. "One of Checkmate's dogs."

_I resent that._

Sasha flinched, but nodded. "Your friends aren't coming back here. None of them. ...I made sure of that."

Under his hand, Ralph felt Vic tremble in fury. He could understand. He could, but. "You didn't..." Ralph's heart sunk. Surely, she didn't just kill them...?

The Question moved; he shoved Sasha aside, hurrying into the house with an infuriated scream that was calling out for any of them, any name, hoping for a reply. Standing back up from being pushed away, Sasha's eyes widened and she whirled around.

"Victor! Not in there!" Sasha yelled for him.

"What--?" Ralph barely began.

Much like a particular Volkswagon Beetle, the house erupted into flames.


End file.
